Face Value
by KawasakiTriple
Summary: A gritty, dark tale of man’s inhumanity to man, and the light of hope that’s both a curse and a promise. OOC a lot? A little? Spot on? You make the call. KakaIru, but it might not be fun. Even less likely with Ibiki in the mix.SLASH/ abuse warning.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and make no profit from these writings. Applies to all chapters to follow._

A gritty, dark tale of man's inhumanity to man, and the light of hope that's both a curse and a promise. OOC a lot? A little? Spot on? You make the call. KakaIru, but it might not be fun. OK, lot of it is not going to be fun. But hopefully, it will be interesting.

****

_1. I Did it All for the 'Biki_

_'We are very different, you and I . You live in the moment, knowing every day may be your last, and that whatever you have in your hands at any given time is all that's yours, and that's enough for you. But I'm not like that. I have wonderful friends, a comfortable home, and my work of course - but even with all that, I still feel like there's something essential missing.  
__I used to think that I'd found it when we first started seeing each, that feeling of love in the beginning was amazing. We've grown past that, sadly, but I'm glad we've been able to remain friends.  
__But I don't think that love is what I was (and am) seeking anymore, I just don't know what it is. It's like there's a missing part of my soul, and the longer I hide behind my desk at the academy, the bigger it gets. I know I'm not explaining this well - but for once, I'm asking you to back off and just trust me. I'm taking a little career risk right now. I can tell that it doesn't make sense to you, so you'll just have to believe me when I tell you that I'm doing what I think is best, for a number of very good reasons.'_

Kakashi folded the note shut, regarding its author critically.

"Well, that's a cute note, I appreciate the time and effort. But, Iruka - it's Ibiki - he's not a career counselor, he's a fucking professional tormentor. That man scares me at times. Was it just because he looked at you? What, you scratch his kinks somehow?"

"This isn't about sex. The subject hasn't even come up."

"Maybe you just don't recognize it. Does he touch you? Does he…put anything on your body?

"Oh please. I told you this is my non-negotiable personal business."

"It's not just personal. He's not supposed to do anything with chunin, period, unless he's supervised. It's unprofessional, and in his profession , that's really dangerous. Experimenting on you, it's - you wouldn't teach the first years deadly force, would you? It's that kind of gap."

"You compared me to first-graders?"

"In the torture and mental-destruction arena you're an infant, Umino. You wouldn't know what he was up to until it was too late."

"Why are you so sure he's up to something? Experimenting? I haven't told you anything about what we've done."

"It doesn't matter. It has to stop. It's a violation and there are damn good reasons why it's forbidden."

"I can't…, I mean, I don't want to. This is legitimate, Kakashi."

"Can you even tell me what you've been doing? Are you clear, in your head, can you remember everything that happens when you're there? Or is it hazy when he's close to you."

"It's clear," Iruka protested. "I know what I'm doing and why. There are good reasons. Don't get involved."

"I'm taking this to the Hokage, do you hear me? And you're coming with me. I want you in sight until we get this resolved." he caught Iruka's arm and hauled him up, despite his protest that the Hokage was well aware. They glared nose -to - nose. "I can force you to go with very little effort, chunin."

o0o0o0o0o

"What do you think when you touch your scar, Iruka?" Ibiki asked levelly.

Iruka pulled his hand away from his habitual touch to his face.

"I didn't say to stop. Touch it again. What do you think when you touch your scar?"

"I…it's just a habit, I don't think of anything."

"Touch it again. Do as I say."

He slid his fingers up uncertainly.

"Tell me what your feeling is." Ibiki ordered, arms folded.

"I'm embarrassed that you're making me touch it like this, because you ordered me to."

"If you 're embarrassed you must think that it's a bad thing to do."

"Well, uh, it might annoy others. It might be rude, I guess."

"You touch your face to show me that you're bad. Do you want to be punished?"

"No! Of course not."

"If you touch your scar in front of me again there will be punishment. Do you understand?"

Iruka suppressed a gasp.

"And you won't know what your punishment will be until I give it to you. It could be…anything."

Ibiki leaned in closer. "Now touch one of my scars. Pretend it's on your face."

The air seemed to thicken and there was a strange resistance as he obediently skimmed his comparatively soft fingers across the dry, hard scar on Ibiki's cheek.

"Tell me what your feeling is now."

"I…it's not a bad scar,"

"NO! What did I ask you?"

"How I feel."

"Answer me."

"I'm uncomfortable! I don't want to touch it! And I don't like the way you're talking to me!"

"Better. Why did you come to me?"

"I volunteered. It was time for me to step out of my comfort zone, try something new, I tried to explain this to Kakash.."

"Bullshit! I asked you why, now you tell me the fuck-honest truth!"

Anger flashed in the deep brown eyes. "Truthfully? Because the Hokage was assigning you a chunin, and she was down to deciding between two of my former students. And I didn't want them to come here for this."

Ibiki liked that answer. It reeked of the truth. And it meant that Umino didn't dare drop out for fear that his students would replace him. Unlike the rest of the sots in the village, Ibiki had little regard for Iruka. He was just a little too cute, and his sweet sincere act was disgustingly submissive.

Ibiki just might make a man of him yet. But first, he had work to do.

o0o0o0o0o

Long day at the academy. Even longer afternoon/evening at the mission desk, including an ugly scuffle between two angry nin returning from a failed mission, trying to lay blame on one another via report. Iruka had ended up mediating and helping them write a joint report. He took a number of undeserved insults in the process and got no thanks even though the two left with their differences patched and their arms slung around each other's shoulders.

And now he still had three hours of Investigative Unit assisting before he could even start grading the spelling tests. He sighed several times on the way to get it out of his system, because it wouldn't do to be sighing around Ibiki. No noise at all was the best approach. He rubbed his scar extra times to make up for the period of not being able to touch it, and to remind himself not to do so.

Kakashi was following him. As ex-boyfriends went, he was quite a pip. Iruka had been clear. When they separated there would be no doing it for old times sake, nor a shift to casual banging now and then. Over meant over. It rekindled the copy-nin's interest only because he was being denied. Iruka knew that the minute he spread for him, Kakashi would make nice for a while and disappear again, just showing up once in a while when he was bored, returning to his habit of finding greener pastures.

Iruka knew he'd rather not have Kakashi shadowing him. But it didn't piss him off enough to confront the eccentric man. Elite jounin that Kakashi was, he was fully aware of this. He just couldn't tell if Iruka was submitting to being tailed because he was amenable to having Kakashi around, or if he was nervous about Ibiki after all.

Ibiki scowled when Iruka came in as the whiff of the watching Kakashi came with him.

"If you have to be escorted here we can terminate your participation now."

"It's a relationship issue, Ibiki-sama. Not related to work."

"Re-lay-tion-ship issue. I see. You have as little success in managing your relationships as you do your professional path. You rank just below unwed mother in the desirability department, so if someone like Kakashi had relations with you it was probably just to wipe the smell of his last lover off of his dick. Perhaps now he wants to snuff you, so that no one finds out about his momentary lapse of taste in ass."

Struggling to keep his hands from raking at his scar for comfort, Iruka snapped back hesitantly.

"That's extremely personal and uncalled for!"

"I would never mention your personal life if you didn't have it displayed so unprofessionally right in front of me. Don't ever let me catch you being escorted again. Perhaps you can find a ninja to teach you how to move from place to place without being followed."

Reddened in embarrassment and with no small measure of buried resentment, Iruka bowed his head and made the proper apology. His flawless recital of the memorized formal statement garnered him a pardon for the night.

Ibiki stood at the window looking out into the darkness, hands clasped behind him. Iruka finished hauling all of the files out of the bottom drawer of the cabinet, stacking them on the table and setting to his task of rehoming them in classification folders, associating newer information and pulling outdated documents for storage in the archives. He worked quickly and efficiently, pointedly not lingering any longer than the bare minimum to recognize the proper disposition of the papers. The information in his hands was among the most closely-guarded in Konoha. He wanted no part of knowing what the content was, and he had no desire to see what Ibiki might do if he thought Iruka was taking any of it in.

The archive pile grew steadily and the work was going very smoothly, Iruka had fallen into a rhythm that sped his hands and freed his thoughts to wonder if Kakashi was still lingering outside. Ibiki had abandoned his post at the window, drawing the blinds shut when the folders began to open to prevent prying eyes. He sat at the desk across the room and wrote on a yellow lined pad, glancing up sourly to check on Iruka every so often.

It wasn't until the second drawer was done that Iruka began to get a bit stiff and slow in his task. His neck cricked and he stopped to rub it, making the mistake of doing so with a folder standing open.

Ibiki was on him in a heartbeat.

"What are you reading?" he demanded, ripping the folder away. Luckily for Iruka, the folder was only open to a copy of the privacy statement. Ibiki jabbed his forehead with the folder then slapped it down in front of him.

"Secure this mess and get out, your time was up twenty minutes ago. And don't think that working over is sufficient ass-kissing to put you on my good side. I expect you here tomorrow on time. Rested. Alone."

Iruka thought better of rubbing his painfully poked forehead and tidied up quickly, bowing and politely thanking Ibiki-sama before fleeing into the night.

He almost fell when his foot landed off the edge of the path, such was his difficulty seeing while scrubbing at his forehead with his left hand to ease the pain while fingering his scar somewhat desperately with his right hand to ease his strain.

A hand caught him, familiar chakra pasting him at the same time so he wouldn't be alarmed.

"Thanks, but you really have to stop following me." Iruka looked up at him wearily, too tired and mentally fatigued to put up a fuss.

"Let's get you home," Kakashi said, and before the protest made it to the chunin's lips they teleported into Iruka's bedroom.

"Oops," Kakashi said, smiling. "Should have tried for the living room. Old habits die hard."

Iruka peered at him over his shoulder, waiting. The arms still wrapped around him, they stood in silence.

Just because he had come to the realization that being near Kakashi would always hurt on some level didn't make it easier to bear. Especially when the man made it clear that the only thing that stood between them was Iruka's stubborn insistence that they couldn't have a casual, non-exclusive relationship.

Wasn't some better than none? Especially when he was soooo good at the 'some' that he took special pride in making a certain chunin lose consciousness when he came? Had loved him into trembling bits at one point or another in every single square foot of this apartment, including closets, kitchen counters and back porch? What difference did it make what happened when they were apart?

When the masked nose snuffled into his neck just below his chin, Iruka reluctantly removed the jounin's slowly roaming hands from his body and stepped away. Losing the warmth hurt like ripping a fresh scab from a weeping wound.

"You have to stop following me."

"And let you break an ankle?"

Iruka sighed and gifted Kakashi with the exact quote from Ibiki's rant, right down to the dick smells and the need to have a ninja teach him stealth.

"He hates you." Kakashi looked a bit stunned and very serious.

"You think?" Iruka sat on the bed, wishing his tests were corrected. The sanctuary of sleep sounded so good right now…

"Iruka, pay attention. I mean he really hates you. Ibiki doesn't talk to people like that."

"He tortures people as his chosen profession. I'm sure he can get a whole lot nastier than that."

"Sure, if you're a prisoner. He doesn't talk to his own people like that. You need to get Tsunade in on this again." Kakashi sat down next to him heavily.

"Oh, no no no. You stay out of this. I wouldn't have had this problem if you hadn't followed me. Just don't do it again. I'm only detailed to his unit for ninety days, if you'll butt out I just might survive it."

Kakashi patted his knee, left his hand there.

"Ahem." Iruka shook his head. "you're on my bed."

"And not nearly in a meaningful enough way," Kakashi said, dropping his voice into a deep, sexy drawl.

Iruka wanted to pound the walls and scream until his lungs bled. Instead, he rose and held out a hand.

"I'll make you some tea if you like. I have grading to do."

Kakashi gave him a disappointed, bored look. "Nah. Gotta go."

"Don't follow me, I mean it. You'll cause me a lot of trouble."

The irritated look made Iruka a little nervous as Kakashi bamphed away without another word.

Of course it was the bed or nothing. He knew tea and company would not hold any interest at this point.

Thank the gods he hadn't bent to that sexy voice.

It still made him pound the table with his forehead several times before he could start grading.

o0o0oo

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

_Please be sure to use the review button if you would like to share your comments, criticisms, or just plain let me know you're alive out there. This really is for you, after all. Your feedback is gratefully accepted._

Chapter 2

Two weeks had passed and although he was quite exhausted, somehow one furiously clerical ninja managed to defeat the entire slated ninety-day file reorganization challenge. It was done. It was perfect. And he had resisted the urge to rub his scar with his damn _toes,_ he was so desperate.

He'd even taken a ruler and spaced all of the files and tabs perfectly, equidistant from the sides of the drawers in all of the cabinets, tabs in perfect alignment, all edges square and neat. It was blindingly precise.

It delighted and irritated Ibiki to no end. Now what the hell was he supposed to do with the simpering chunin?

Make a man of him, Ibiki. He did you a favor (everyone else who had attempted to fix up the files just made them worse and worse. A man of discipline, he was solidly pleased at the neat, rigid uniformity of the Umino-sanitized files). Now return it. Maybe afterwards he wouldn't be so damned annoying.

o0o0o0o0o

Monday after school, still dribbling blood from his chin, Iruka had to teleport to make it to the Investigations Unit on time. Man, this assignment had turned out to be somewhat of a false alarm. So what if one of his ex-students had been sent to do this. Clerical work never hurt anybody. All that fuss about Ibiki. The man was an ogre to work for, but not so terrifying that you couldn't bear it. Iruka should have listened to the silver-haired harpy and stayed out of it. Well, hindsight is always 20-20.

He quickly swiped away the slowing blood. The wound came from the shuriken that flew behind a student earnestly trying to throw the thing forward. It had forced Iruka to dodge and grab it before it spun back into the line of waiting miniature would-be assassins. It had nicked his chin deeply and he didn't attempt to stem the resulting flow of blood, using the wound to illustrate the dangers of poor control and lack of concentration. The children were always attentive at the sight of blood and Iruka felt those lessons were worth instilling deeply. The more it soaked the front of his uniform the better.

Well, until he realized that he didn't have time to change if he was to report to Ibiki on time. It was looking like he'd be getting another lecture. He ran over the two hundred-plus words of the statement of apology in his mind again. Good. He still had every word memorized, and he would launch into it as soon as the man laid eyes on him.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"You're changing into those anyway, Umino, shit-can the apology. You got any pets?" Ibiki stared at him and motioned to a folded stack of grey-green cotton.

Confused, Iruka barely remembered to stop his hand as it started up to his face. "No, no pets."

"Good. Because you won't be leaving here for a while. I don't want any animals starving to death."

Iruka blinked. "Well, wait, I still have my classes to run.."

"No. Tsunade's scheduled substitutes for the duration. I need you here. You'll have clothes and toiletries provided for you. Sit. I need to brief you."

Iruka sat, and sat very ,very still indeed.

He read the printed outline that was shoved into his hand.

Incarcerated. Posing as a deserter? What the hell?

"You'll be monitored. Your cellmate is Hidata Jeninki, a rogue nin with few qualities to recommend him. He smart, and he's tough...he seems to be pretty familiar with prison. He only has one known weakness so far - he tends to have a soft spot for 'pretty boys'. Your mission is to get him to reveal the whereabouts of his hideout. He has two Konoha nins captive there. We do not know if they were alive when your cellmate last saw them, and we need to find that out as well. These things you must extract from him. Now get changed."

To Iruka's chagrin Ibiki waited with arms folded and offered him no privacy to change. The master interrogator watched intently as the blushing man stripped and re-dressed in pajama-like prison greens.

Well, Ibiki observed, he has a reasonably well-maintained physique. More adequate than one would be led to believe in his usual garb. A good choice for this endeavor.

And perhaps now the hours spent watching the monitors might not be so tedious, which was a nice little surprise; he wondered if there would be any more before the detail came to a close.

o0o0o0o0o

It wasn't a sound he'd ever heard before, so it came as a shock when the clang of the iron bars clutched his heart with the fear of a caged animal. It surely would be much worse when it was his own cell that closed. He stood with his eyes downcast and waited as the keys rattled and the next cell opened. His cell. This couldn't possibly be happening.

But it was, and the rattle as the door's wheels squeaked and the bars slid past turned his bowels to liquid.

Oh, and that was even worse. The toilet stood in the middle of the cell, with no privacy whatsoever.

_Not one bite of solid food is passing these lips until I get out of here_, Iruka vowed silently.

Eyes dark as his own watched him warily as he stepped into the cell and turned, holding his hands out in front of him. One guard observed from the walkway as the other undid the metal cuffs and chains. Rubbing his wrists, Iruka tried to hazard a glance at his new surroundings. The guard motioned him to the cot on the left. When he stood by it the guard gave the cell a quick inspection and exited. The man on the other cot remained motionless and silent, watching.

When the cell door clanged shut, the heart-stopping feeling returned. He barely heard the boots clomping as the guards left the cellblock. Sweat jumped out on his forehead and his breath started coming in fast gasps.

A phobia he never knew he had. Not good, not good. The cell swam and he sat heavily on the cot, fear rising. _That man will know now. He'll see that I'm a fake. I'm dead, I'm trapped! The walls are sucking all the air out of the room and I'm dying._

The floor was growing dim and distant and the desperate attempt to bring his breathing back to normal was having the opposite effect.

Hands closed over his face and he startled hard.

"Hey, easy," a voice sounded quietly in his ear. "It's the cell's chakra suppression, it triggers your fight-or-flight reflex. Try to slow your breathing down."

The hands cupped together over his mouth and his breath heated the space, acting like the proverbial brown paper bag to stem his hyperventilation.

Slowly the cell spun back into focus and his chest slowed its frantic heaving. He squinted an eye shut to divert a rivulet of sweat from running into it. The other eye turned to meet his helper. Eyes the same deep root beer brown met his, cautiously concerned.

The murdering kidnapper. Looking at him, appraising, now that he was calming down.

Iruka's eye snapped back away and he froze. One panic attack over, another was brewing anew.

It struck him that his cellmate's affinity for pretty boys might not be something he wanted to think about right now. Especially with his own chakra gone.

His guts cramped and gurgled noisily .

I will die first, he swore to himself.

"Need a hand getting to the crapper?"

_If you had any decency and pride in your work you'd murder me now. I am NOT using that 'crapper'._

He shook his head no.

The other man shrugged, let him go and went back to lounging on the other cot, still looking at him. He absently threw his long hair over his shoulder to keep it out of his face

"Got a name?"

"Iruka." It came out in a strained squeak.

The other man twitched. "Okay."

"And you're…?"

"Jeninki."

Iruka nodded. "Jeninki," he repeated.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Those guards," Iruka said before he really thought.

Jeninki snorted. "A wise guy, huh?"

"The opposite. Not wise at all."

Jeninki turned that answer over in his head. What an odd duck - or more likely, a stool pigeon. Seemed harmless otherwise, though.

"I meant, what landed you in here?"

"I didn't do anything wrong. I'm innocent." Iruka had already determined that this would be the easiest story to tell, since it was the truth.

"Suuuure…me too. I'm innocent of abduction. What are you innocent of?"

"Desertion."

"And they didn't behead you on the spot? What, has Konoha gone sissy or something?"

Iruka shrugged. "I'm not a threat. Just a schoolteacher, a chunin."

"Mind if I ask why you were leaving?"

"Yes," Iruka said sadly. "I mind." It was so much easier not having to act. He drew on experience, thinking of the last time he prayed he could leave this village in general and one jounin in particular, and never return.

It seemed to be the right thing to say.

"I see. Is it that you're not used to the accommodations?"

"I'm tired," Iruka said, easing down on the rough grey wool blanket tightly covering the spartan cot. He turned his back to the man, needing time to regain his composure, and thinking that a show of disinterest would be convincing in his effort to fill the role of cellmate.

A hand jerked his head back by his banded hair.

"Don't turn your back on me. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Iruka grabbed his wrist, concerned at how odd it still felt to be in a chakra-suppression cell. They were mere men, fingers gripping and nails digging in, flesh and muscle combatants. Neither man would have much cause to have trained in such a state. The cell suppressed their usable chakra completely, as if they had none.

It was definitely to Iruka's advantage. This man was supposed to be at elite jounin level. But here, nose-to-nose, the chunin schoolteacher's slightly smaller but ripped body would finally give him an advantage he actually sought. They flew into one another, grappling, rolling hard on the floor, grunting unfinished curses as they struggled and fought without grace or plan.

Iruka's cheek scraped the floor as he scissor-kicked the larger man from his position atop him, gaining enough freedom to face him again and get a hand on his windpipe. A knee pushed him away and down, preventing him from getting enough leverage to complete his stranglehold and they rolled, clawing and getting in short hard blows whenever a fist shook free.

They were starting to sweat, both of them experienced enough at fighting to stay close and prevent the other from getting too much force in their swing. The grappling was fierce and it went on for some time before they found it was beginning to wear them down.

They were now more defensive, aggression and anger gradually waning. They slowed and warily panted as they finally stopped moving, each restraining the other and not letting go. Iruka had little satisfaction at the bruises he saw blooming on the other man's face, but couldn't feel too sorry for him as he sucked on the blood from his own split lower lip to keep it from rolling down his chin.

Why the hell hadn't Ibiki sent someone to the cell yet? The cell was thoroughly bugged and monitored, of course. Jeninki pushed him away and Iruka let go, braced in case it was the precursor to another attack. Instead, the other man gingerly felt his swelling cheek as he stood, stepping back still facing Iruka.

There was no sound except for their labored breathing and an occasional short, throat-clearing cough. Iruka rolled cautiously to his feet, stepping back to sit on the edge of his cot.

Jeninki's eyes roamed the corridor out past the bars, then back to Iruka's pissed off face._ So what does that prove,_ he wondered._ Does it prove he's just another prisoner, not worthy of intervention? Or does it prove that he's a plant, and they don't want to blow his cover?_

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank for reading, and for those of you who did, reviewing. _

Chapter 3

One thing the altercation revealed to Jeninki - it had proved the scarred man was either not genuinely provoked, or not given to killing when provoked. His moves were defensive, suppressive. No eye-gouging neck-snapping efforts. Consistent, perhaps, with the schoolteacher persona. Almost too soft for a chunin. The anger raging in his eyes radiated truth at the same time. If he was a plant, he was an inexperienced one. Jeninki made a bid to lock their eyes again, and the chunin instinctively turned away.

"Turn your back on me again, sensei-boy, and I'll snap your neck before you can move." The taller man spat and Iruka dodged the spinning blob, coming up to his feet in attack stance. The disdain in Jeninki's voice hit a raw nerve, and hit it sharply. He clearly saw no threat in his cellmate.

Iruka was genuinely and thoroughly pissed now, on the edge of totally losing his temper. His skinned cheek burned, his lip was swelling, and Ibiki was probably laughing at him watching some monitor. Maybe he was the event of the week, amusing a whole room full of ANBU. They never made any bones about their opinion of him, his skills, and his station in life. He was beneath them, pure and simple, and they weren't likely to care if he could defend himself or not. It was no excuse to leave him here and just let this no-good criminal do whatever he wanted to with him.

The muscles in his shoulders bunched hard and tight, begging for one really good shot at the son-of-a-bitch, almost consciously in lieu of the people that truly deserved his anger. With a sneer, the other man turned away, and took to his cot, making a show of his position with his back to Iruka.

"Fuck you!" Iruka's voice was so loud and venomous he didn't recognize it himself. "What the fuck is that, you turn your back on me after you tell me that bullshit?" He started forward and the man flipped to face him.

"What do you teach with that mouth? " Jeninki smirked, not making any defensive move. "You're damned unprofessional for a teacher. Or a nin, for that matter. No wonder they didn't bother to behead you. You don't use it all that extensively when it's attached."

Iruka moved forward, anger still growing in intensity.

A lot of things had been making him angry for a very long time.

People assumed he vented constantly. Yelling at the kids was not a release, he never did that in any uncontrolled, cathartic sort of way; it was always with good intent and planned impact. Yelling at his friends or slackers at the mission desk when they annoyed him was likewise not effective. He had to hold back. He always let off just enough steam to keep from really letting off steam. Enough to be able to stop himself.

But this - this was an opportunity for a true release of venom. This almost felt good.

And here was some bastard who richly deserved it. A hand to hand no chakra matchup. No reason to hold back or be polite, worry about the guy's opinion of him, feel guilty or face the consequences. It was the perfect one-night-stand of anger. And suddenly he was hot for it.

An outlet for every cheat and slight that Kakashi made when his heart was laid bare. An outlet for every snide remark about his chunin status, every pantywaist put-down due to his job at the academy, every embarrassment at his exclusion from gatherings for not being a balls-out jackass like the other ninjas. Anger at the forced sex he's had with three of them at the promotion party he'd mysteriously been invited to attend, that they'd convinced him to shut up about since he was drunk and didn't fight back hard enough. Anger that when his supposed friends found out about it from the other men, they found it amusing and expressed regret at having missed taking part. Oh yeah, he had anger. He had buckets of it. These were just the fresh issues at the tip of his iceberg. Deeper issues from the past raged beneath in well-controlled suppression. But what was fresh at hand was plenty to spark his murderous rage.

The man on the bed saw it coming, saw it in his eyes. It took so little provocation to whip him up to this pitch that he had to check again to be sure. There was no question whether this was just a convincing act now, it was real. The hatred and internal conflict flamed in this man's soul. Again, Jeninki tried to lock eyes and make a connection; the brief brush with that contact only inflamed the other man all the more. At the moment, this guy was simply not all there. The hands that gripped him this time were shot with adrenaline and rage. In spite of the disparity in their size, he was hauled off the bed like a stuffed toy and flung into the bars. This time his cellmate was ready to kill him.

Jeninki dodged a blow that would have crushed his windpipe, slashing out with a kick that connected with the knee of a firmly planted leg. It was an error of passion on the other nin's part, so enraged that his body had lost flexibility. He felt the damage his expert kick inflicted on the delicate workings of the chunin's knee joint as it shattered and bent in a very wrong direction. It stunned him that the other man grabbed and bit him viciously with total disregard to the pain in his leg. The bite spurted blood as the teeth sank into his upper arm, the intensity was truly insane, and Jeninki began screaming for help. Shit, this man was going to tear him to bits right here if this wasn't halted; and using his carefully hidden wiles to kill him wasn't an option when he would be the only possible suspect.

They crashed into the bars again, hands in each others faces, the man with the sweet face and whimsical ponytail clawing for his eyes, moving to bite down hard again on his shoulder, ripping like a dog shaking a rabbit. He was fortunate indeed that those teeth weren't in range of his throat or face. Jeninki kicked again, while he punched upward into the close space between them trying like hell to snap that punishing jaw, feet slipping in the blood spattering on the floor.

ANBU guards reached though the bars and restrained then apart. It took two to secure the teacher, only one to hold Jeninki. He wanted protection at this point, not a fight. The chunin fought the ANBU briefly, a bad decision on his part, and they none-too-gently hammered his head into the bars with their unsuppressed chakra and greater strength until he fell limp to the floor.

Only when they both were still did the door open and an attempt to patch them together was made. One look at the sensei's knee bent in the anatomically incorrect manner had them calling for a stretcher.

Jeninki had sincerely tried not to kill him, he really did. It hadn't been easy, he had at least three clear openings where his skills would have made the kill instantaneous. But seeing that amount of unresolved inner turmoil and rage made him resolute in preserving his cellmate's life, no matter how he seemed to be begging him to end it. A man that disturbed was a perfect target for more important things.

o0o0o0o0o

_Damn_, Ibiki thought, lit by the monitor's glow as he sat watching the chunin wail on the prisoner, _did I not explain this well enough?_ The earlier fight was obviously the other man's bid for cell dominance. This other altercation - it seemed that Iruka had started it. It was not entirely possible to tell from observing - there could have been some aggression, some signs telegraphed between them that the video/audio equipment didn't pick up.

But even if the other actually started it, Ibiki was shocked at how animalistic the attack had been, how vicious, and how the teacher had disregarded the destruction of his knee and then became even more aggressive. This was a level of assault more common with a criminal. Of course, it was in the vacuum of a chakra-less environment - unlikely that the chunin would have survived such a battle without the artificially evened odds.

But still, it spoke of a maniacally dangerous edge, and no one had been aware that the sensei possessed it prior to today. Ibiki was intrigued. He decided to stay the course and see what happened.

Healed passably, Jeninki was returned to his cell. The complex work for Iruka's knee took longer, and he wasn't reintroduced until later that evening. It was like putting new cats together , the jailers standing over them at first for signs of a fight.

Iruka was calm but he couldn't shake the mindset that this was his punching bag, his outlet, and before all this was over, he would have his release. It was a murderer after all, with two men held captive or dead…there was a self-righteousness that allowed him to relish this normally forbidden cruelty.

He curbed his glare, his hatred. He had a mission. Ibiki had yelled at him while his knee was being healed and it washed over him like dove feathers. He hadn't felt this powerful before, ever.

Part of his mind told him he was being very foolish. He wasn't powerful, his opponent was disarmed. Only their artificially enforced equality gave him the ability to harm the other man.

He had to be calm, to engage this criminal again and get the information needed to complete the mission. The eyes that could have belonged to his twin glared at him in annoyed acknowledgement. Their little sparring session had not earned them time in solitary confinement; in fact they were still being housed together.

The guy's got some loose screws, Jeninki concluded. Perhaps a true mental health issue. So they won't dirty their conscience executing him; instead they'll lock him up with someone who will do the deed for them. He briefly considered changing his mind and taking up the cause, if only to maintain a little more peace and quiet.

But, no. His instability might serve his purpose. The Konoha ninja might have information that would help Jeninki get away sooner. And a broken mind had cracks; cracks a clever man like himself could exploit to penetrate, use, and perhaps convert an unhappy citizen. Once he could get the chunin to hold still and face him calmly, he was sure his skills would prevail.

They moved together to the showers, and he stole looks at his naked cellmate, taking in the collection of scars. The vertical one on his back was truly alarming, the man was lucky he hadn't been paralyzed. He sized up the physical threat. He was a decent specimen physically, a little on the lean side but well muscled and hard-bellied, and remarkably attractive with his perfect ass, toned back and straight shoulders. Desirable, that was the right term. Anyone with eyes could see that the chunin was unusually desirable. Jeninki considered how that likely influenced the life of a middle-ranked man, subjected to following orders and keeping his superior's secrets at their whim.

When they moved back to the cell, he decided to try a different tactic.

_-tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you for the inspiring reviews; do let me know if this goes off-course. _

Chapter 4

"So what has you so perpetually pissed off?" Jeninki asked, facing the other man from across the room.

The scarred man suppressed his intense dislike and shrugged. This was more like it. If the bastard was getting chatty, he might get careless enough to reveal something.

"Tired of being used?" Jeninki persisted.

"What's it to you?" Iruka shot back. "What's your game, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't have a game. Your village is playing the fucking game. I'm just trying to end it."

"Really. What game are we talking about here?" Iruka glanced up, then back away. There it was, that stare again, irritating and somehow disruptive.

"You think your little corner of the world is so perfect. If it's so perfect, why is there a death sentence for leaving? The people of this village aren't free."

"Oh, come on. That's your excuse to abduct our men? For our own good?"

"Look. You tell me. If you decided you wanted a life living on the coast, could you do that? Could you just pack up and move to any location you wanted to live in?" Still the Leaf nin looked away at each attempt to lock him in his gaze. Jeninki was growing a bit impatient.

"There's no coastline in Fire Country, you know that. Of course you can't just go live at the coast."

"Yeah. So you do get it. You aren't free, and you just accept it. You're enslaved, man. And even worse - look at what you've done for a living. You're brainwashing the next generation to accept the same shit." Jeninki folded his arms. "What happens if they order you out on a mission. Any choices there, either?"

Iruka glared, not quite meeting the look drilling from those dark brown eyes. "Everyone willingly does their duty. The strong have to protect the weak. The rules are there to protect everyone."

"Hot shit coming from a deserter. There's more than one way to live, there's something more important than the sword. You know, I'm in this cell because I missed a payment, not because of the ninjas that haven't returned. I paid the mortality fee up front when I submitted my scroll. If those guys died on this mission that was fine. But someone figured out that there never really was a fatal mission, and that means I'm behind on the rent. Now I'm in here because I gave those men a key to a perfect world and set them free. You see, I freed them and now I'm trapped because of it. I'm stuck here until I prove they're dead, pay up the rent or hand them back over for punishment. It all boils down to the money here. This village is so corrupt I don't think I'll ever get the stench off."

"You're a pretty lousy liar. You expect me to believe that this is some trumped-up charge over money and mission contracts? If you freed those nin they would have reported back. Your story's full of holes."

"Oh, no, I'm on the up-and-up. I had a number of chats with them, very much like the one I'm having with you. They're very intelligent young men. They saw the truth almost immediately. It just took their hearts a bit of time to let go of the past. But once they did, no way in hell was I going to hand them back over."

"You expect me to believe this lame theory turned them into instant traitors?"

"Open your pea brain. I've just told you the sky is blue and you've closed your eyes to prove me wrong. Mull it over. Try to dig down and remember what it felt like to dream of becoming a man. Then think about the way you have to live now, doing only the things deemed acceptable by the powers that be. You're a very angry, unhappy soul. You don't have to be a boot-licker if you choose not to. Look at yourself and tell me you're satisfied with how things have turned out for you."

"I'm…" he started to defend his dedication to the village. Then he had a slight doubt. Then he caught himself; he was supposed to be in jail for desertion, and his story was that it wasn't true, so he wouldn't be so quick to defend a government that imprisoned him falsely, would he? It shouldn't be so confusing, keeping his role as prisoner here separate from his true self. He didn't realize where his eyes were cast as he struggled to clear his thoughts.

But Jeninki did, and he explored the depths of his cellmate's eyes, marveling at the confusion he could inspire with his deep stare and hard truths.

x

The two bickered back and forth, and Ibiki watched them impassively. All theory, no substance. He needed locations, dates, times.

They weren't fighting anymore, the dominance thing settled in a way too subtle for most to interpret. Ibiki had been watching cell cams for a long time, though, and as he had predicted, Iruka was not the dominant one. But there was far less disparity than he had expected.

More often than not, Jeninki was working Iruka and not the other way around. Iruka needed to be reminded to use all of his available talents to get the rogue nin to slip.

It was a bit disappointing to see that he was already veering off-task.

x

The men were released into a small outdoor exercise area. Jeninki distanced himself from Iruka at first, then came close, speaking in a low voice.

"You know your place here. A man with your looks, I'll bet the higher ranks use you without even asking. They do, don't they? I can tell by the look on your face when I said that. It's not going to be like that in the new village. Everyone has the same rights, they won't have them doled out according to chakra level. Genin, jounin, chunin, villager, sannin…all equal. Freedom is like that. It means everyone can have what they want if they're willing to make the effort to be a part of the village, instead of outrageous riches going to the meager few while the rest go without."

"Get away from me." Jeninki's eyes had locked with his and he shook his head to clear it before he could break the gaze.

"No. You need to listen. You're an unhappy man. You're being used like a slave, a second-class citizen. Think about it, Iruka. Who used you last, who used you worst? Would you really miss them, or this place, that much?" Jeninki's eyes sparkled with passionate belief, and Iruka was drawn back into their pull. An odd, uncomfortable emptiness welled up in his stomach as his thinking slowed just a bit. It seemed to open his mind, letting the other's point of view enter uninvited to take up residence; as if they were thoughts he'd harbored all along.

Kakashi's name and Ibiki's leapt to his mind as potential answers to the man's question before he could try to shut out those thoughts. No, he wouldn't respond to such infidelity. But his mind refused to stop working on the question. Wouldn't he miss them eventually? Because in the short run, the ache to get away had been preying on his mind every day.

The pause was just long enough that Jeninki knew his words had taken advantage of the opening and were hitting home. When you push something, the motion is away from you. He didn't need to push these thoughts now that they were embedded. Instead he broke eye contact and turned to walk away, bringing the momentum back in his direction, drawing his target in.

"You're full of shit, Jeninki," Iruka called after him. The edge in his voice was dulled. As if he were shoring up his own resistance, ever so slightly uncertain now.

The prisoner just raised a hand to acknowledge the words with stopping or looking back, heading for a drink of water and to give the other inmates a once-over. This could be a fertile field for converts. More than one village had been built from the discarded miscreants of another.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Look, Umino, I'm leaning towards pulling you out of there. What the hell is going on?" Ibiki snarled at the chunin after the guards that delivered him bowed and left the monitoring room.

"I'm getting him to talk. You must be hearing all of this. We know what he's up to now, right? And that the nins aren't prisoners. I just need to get him to tell me where this village is that he's trying to start up. Is it true that he has these men on a mission contract?"

"Watch yourself. He's a master of half-truths and deceit. He used a phony mission scroll in order to abduct the shinobi. This has nothing to do with the billing department."

"Oh." So was that true? Was Ibiki playing him or Jeninki? He startled himself with his own disloyal lack of conviction. He was not at all confident that Ibiki was telling him the truth, either.

"Yeah, well you've managed to get him to do a lot of talking. Just because it comes out of his mouth doesn't mean it's the truth; just look at the bullshit he's spouting. We need to know exactly where those missing shinobi sleep at night. Are you still able to go on? You seemed pretty unstable at times. Is that for real?"

"I'm not unstable, give me some credit. He thinks I am, and that's how I'm getting him to talk."

"I'm not so sure. You know, I thought I told you to buddy up, get cozy, make him feel good. Whatever this is you're doing is way out in left field. Still, you are getting more out of him than we had before." Ibiki looked darkly at the smaller man. "I'm leaving you in, then, but not much longer. Maybe a little more carrot and a little less stick from now on, hn? You do get my drift."

Iruka got his 'drift'. Much as he resisted it, Jeninki's words came back into his head. The man was too accurate in a lot of ways. The superiors used his body as they saw fit, whether using it themselves or directing him to give it to others, without a second thought. As if it was theirs to do with as they pleased.

No, he told himself firmly. That was the criminal's warped spin on it. Iruka's body had been prepared for service to Konoha voluntarily, and he willingly gave the reins to his superiors due to their greater ability to judge how he would best be of service. To serve and protect. A noble way to live, at least in theory.

One foot on each viewpoint, he nodded to Ibiki and held silent. He didn't know how he felt about it any more, which scenario held more truth. Not that it mattered, he was a citizen and bound by the shinobi laws whether he agreed with them or not. That was how laws were. That was part of being a citizen, no matter where you lived.

In the prison the mindset was different, maybe that was having an influence on his thinking. The laws were not taken as gods, set in stone, shameful to disobey. The people here had challenged them and lost, but most defended their decisions to do so, some right up to the executioner's blade. Maybe that was what set Iruka's mind to thinking in new ways, subversive, dangerous ways. He needed to get the goods on Jeninki and see for himself that the laws of Konoha would be just and reasonable. The man that was shaking his beliefs could become the example that reaffirmed them.

But it wasn't Jeninki that gave him the next hard tip away from his classic loyal, lap-dog thinking. It was a close comrade.

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

_OK, I have to admit to being a little nervous about this one. Explicit content - the rating for this fiction and specifically this chapter is 'M'_

Chapter 5

Placed in a tiny visitation room, Iruka waited anxiously, spinning the chakra cuffs on his wrists. Out of the suppression areas, the cuffs went on, and they made no exception for Iruka, keeping up the charade to the hilt.

He hated this more than anything. His visitor, whoever it was, would not be suppressed. It was like being naked at a memorial service.

The door swung open and a guard let his visitor in. Iruka groaned, and Kakashi smiled bitterly as he stepped in. The guard closed and secured the door.

"Even in prison, I'm not a comparatively welcome sight?" the silver-haired jounin's voice was instantly angry, insulted.

"That's not it. Hi, Kakashi, it's good to see you."

"Without your chakra you're a pretty shitty liar. You really like to pretend you can't stand me, don't you?" His gloved hands came up to cup Iruka's chin almost tenderly, then gripped it and pulled down. "What, your new playmate won't give you anything to help you out? I hear you won't cooperate, I'm supposed to find out why you aren't fucking him like you're supposed to. Imagine that. If I knew the answer to that, you 'd have been fucking me like you're supposed to. But I told Ibiki I'd give it a shot. I told him maybe you were just out of practice. Maybe you just need a little sparring session to get you going. Sound good, Iruka? Want to work the kinks out with me first?"

There was nothing friendly or seductive in the jounin's voice, only anger and something colder. Iruka knew that tone, it had been one of the factors in his decision to break it off. Kakashi was never completely faithful, ever. But his rage when he suspected Iruka of wandering, even if it was only with his mind, was just like this. Iruka wanted no part of it, the anger, the controlling, the jealousy; and in the midst of it all, the more painful than necessary, totally dominant sex partner the man would be in this state.

"I'm not sleeping with anybody. I can accomplish this without it, and I'm going to. All these rooms are monitored, I have no interest in ending up in Ibiki's private porn collection."

Kakashi looked suspicious, then eased a little. "He's convinced that you'll need to be this guy's bitch to do whatever it is he's trying to have you do."

"He said that from the beginning, but it hasn't been true. I'm doing this my way. It's working just fine."

A slow smile took over the mouth under the mask.

"Defying Ibiki? I'm proud of you." Kakashi stepped forward and slipped his arms around Iruka's waist, pulling him close without being rough or demanding. He deliberately pressed against him with his groin to show him how hard simply being in the room together had made him, then let him go. "You'll always do that to me, Iruka. Always."

And I'm always supposed to feel obligated to do something about it, Iruka thought resentfully.

"Yeah, well, this is hardly the time or place to take care of that, " he frowned.

"Hmmmn, alone, practically ordered to fuck, me hard as a rock…what time or place could be better?" Kakashi came at him this time, determined, hands reaching too fast to avoid entirely.

"Damn it, Kakashi, don't touch me!"

The lone eye gave him a narrow look; gloved hands were still invasively feeling his body through the thin prison cottons, touching him intimately, enjoying their path without permission. "Feel this, Iruka, just feel. Settle down, we've done this hundreds of times, it's a part of us. Just let me back inside you, once you let it happen again you'll be able to let go. Let me make you go crazy like you used to. You know you want it, feel how hard you're getting? That's for me, all for me. I still do that to you, too." His hand moved confidently, producing the right physical responses using his intimate knowledge of Iruka's responsiveness along with carefully applied chakra.

Iruka was defenseless and he knew it, adding to his revulsion when his refusal was ignored. The anti-violence chakra cuffs would not allow his hands to touch his visitor, much less fight him off. Kakashi could always have done whatever he wanted to with Iruka, the disparity in their power was that great. But here, restrained with no chakra at all, it was so much dirtier and raw. Kakashi would be completely in control of all of the sensations he was causing, he could easily create orgasms so extreme they could injure Iruka if the jounin got too carried away. The copy nin loved having control, the chance to have this much would be irresistible. Resignation slowed the blood in his veins, and he lost the motivation to protest. The outcome here was obvious.

"I'm sorry, Iruka, it's orders…Ibiki's orders…he's my superior, yours too. You don't want to be in jail for real for treason, do you? Not when all you have to do is open up and enjoy what I'm about to do for you."

The massage of chakra fingertips had hardened him to the point of pain already through the thin cloth. He was pulsing and far too engorged to pretend he wasn't losing control, the arousal interfering with his hopelessly half-hearted attempts to think of a way out of this.

"Once lovers, always lovers." Kakashi was reaching into the pants now, exploring the bare flesh up and down, lightly touching in an agonizing tickle. His finger roamed back and slipped chakra into the cleft of his partner's clenched ass, and the muscles relaxed at his command. Then on to the entrance to apply chakra instead of lube, gaining the moan Iruka had been biting back on, making the captive body turn needy and open to his advances.

"You can't hide from me. I can tell, Iruka. I know you. There hasn't been anyone else you've wanted, has there? There hasn't been anyone else you've asked to do this since the last time I made you cum. How can you stand to go without for so long?"

Wanted, the word rang off-key in Iruka's fevered mind. This wasn't any more wanted than his last experience. Familiar, almost expected, totally in character…but not wanted. The jounin didn't take in the words that he said, didn't process the lack of reciprocation. "Don't," he breathed in shame.

Kakashi stopped his progress then, and began a slow, relentless tease of both the entrance and the erection under his hands. He would not force it any more then, because he wouldn't have to. Iruka would have to ask for him to go any further than this now. When he easily felt the unshielded body begin to rise to orgasm, he backed off, sending slight suppression impulses. Iruka's face was a portrait of erotic beauty, flushed and glazed with perspiration, and creased with pent tension and the pain of battling for self-control. The look was worth it even if the chunin could somehow resist giving in. Kakashi stripped off his hitai-ati to take it all in, then returned that hand to its insidious urging, touching and teasing.

Iruka had never felt anything quite like it, bitterly noting that the most physically pleasurable, gentle, almost considerate sex he was ever going to have with Kakashi was because he was powerless to stop it. When the teasing reached almost unbearable levels he tried to push the jounin away and the cuffs stopped his motion and shocked his wrists sharply. There was nowhere to run in the small room. The sensations were driving him mad, warping his resolve. Another tease here, another there, and the ache to be filled was taking over his whole body. He nearly came again and when it was suppressed, he called out in reflex, past thinking, for what he needed. He cursed himself but the pain of need outstripped the humiliation and at least he would have relief now. At least it would be over and done with.

Kakashi was enjoying it far too much to end it so quickly. Once Iruka called out for Kakashi to be inside him, the ending had been written. In between, there should be more, and now with permission, he lowered the mask and began to play.

He used his tongue first in rough, challenging swipes, making the captive man jerk and spasm with over-sensitivity. Lowering Iruka to the floor, he pulled down his own pants, and straddled that agonized face to vie for return of the oral stimulation he was giving the chunin's darkened organ, suppressing with chakra what his tongue ignited to avoid too early of a release.

Iruka swallowed him whole, desperate to be filled with something, anything, somewhere. Kakashi nearly roared in pleasure, finally winning back that mouth that had refused him for so long. He threw his head back, Iruka's erection was now to the point where all the touches were so painful it nearly was too much anyway. He drove into the chunin's mouth hard, and Iruka arched back and lifted his chin to give the long penis a clear path in and out of his throat, impossibly stimulating him further. Kakashi came without warning, so deeply that he didn't even need to swallow, the cum shooting in beyond that point.

The jounin kept his chakra centered and never lost his hard-on, pulling out and flipping around to sit between Iruka's legs and keep working with his orgasmic high. He stripped off the prison pants and underwear completely, pulling the chunin's ass up onto his lap and pushing the thighs up and apart wide. He placed his glistening hard on in position and teased the end in and out just a little, and only the chakra cuffs kept Iruka's clawing hands from grabbing and pulling him in

"Not yet, not yet," he said roughly, stopping to get a good look, pulling the cleft further open to watch the penetration clearly. He slid in just the head, then back out, loving the view, and feeling the jerk of the sudden loss of resistance in the body under his grip when his partner thought he was going to keep going. He held onto the hips that were trying to start a rhythm and teased in one more time, beyond excited at being in such complete control. Pulling all the way out, he fondled the hardened balls and resisted the heels that slammed into his back in frustration.

"Damn you," Iruka wheezed.

"Tell me, Iruka. Tell me what you want. It's all I've been waiting for. Tell me now, or I'm leaving."

Kakashi added that last sentence on impulse, delighting himself with his wit. Iruka's reaction was immediate.

"Take me, Kakashi, please, now, do it now."

"Aw, you said please." He slipped in the head again, slowly, stopping to savor the sensation and the moment, still watching. "That's the magic word."

The sight of the whole length sliding in, stretching his partner, finally made the copy-nin lose his composure, too. With that body spread-eagled in his lap, he plunged in hard, trying for depth and impact, working a few strokes bent forward then leaning back to watch himself penetrate, switching off between visual and pure physical stimulation.

He touched a release to his control and let Iruka cum naturally, in a protracted orgasm that he then assisted with chakra to draw out for several minutes, until the chunin's pleasure threatened to overtax his body. The jounin's ejaculate shot up inside in the midst of it all, as far in as he could get it, as if he were marking his territory.

Iruka's orgasm was so intensely pleasurable that he forgot everything but the sensations for those heart-pounding moments of release, a high beyond anything his body had ever experienced. It was like a separate act from the unfair games Kakashi put him through to get here. His heart thrashed in his chest and even though it went too long, it wasn't long enough. Lost in his body's sensations, the jounin disappeared from the picture, and only the fulfilling feeling of the climax was real.

He came out of it still high, still out of it. His penis pulsed on for several more minutes, and then the realization that it had been manipulated with chakra sank in, the scenario he had predicted.

"I'm taking the chakra cuffs out of my mission equipment and putting them in with my sex toys," Kakashi smiled, kissing Iruka's slack mouth and pulling out abruptly. "Still the hottest ass in town, Ru. So fucking hot, you have no idea."

Iruka's expression fell from the mindless, sated look instantly. He looked disgusted and sickened.

"I hate you," he said in a quiet, distant voice.

"And I hate you, too, love. Comes with the territory." Standing over him now, Kakashi wiped up and threw the soiled utility rag down on Iruka's chest. "Keep it. Don't say I never gave you anything."

Iruka remained on his back half-naked on the floor, his shirt still bunched up under chin, staring up at the acoustical tiles on the ceiling. "Kakashi?"

Something in the tone of his voice made the jounin pause and answer seriously. "Yeah?"

"Is it because of my rank?"

"Is what because of your rank?"

"This, the way you treat me. Like I have no say in what happens. Like the only important thoughts are yours."

Kakashi was taken aback, for once not snappy with an answer. "Well, that's…that's just your opinion. And it's wrong. I don't treat you that way."

The corner of Iruka's mouth crept up, an ironic smile not meant for Kakashi. Even Iruka's feelings were wrong if Kakashi deemed them so. He shouldn't have expected a straight answer. Things were never clear with this man anyway, he wanted and hated him in nearly equal measure, and Kakashi's feelings for him were always just as mixed. Their relationship was damaging and fulfilling and damningly obsessive, and it never changed no matter what. The only resolution would be to never lay eyes on each other again. In a hidden village, that simply was not going to happen.

Jeninki's words ghosted in his brain…he had been right about some things. He was used, he wasn't used, he wasn't even sure himself. He didn't want it, but he gave up without a fight. It wouldn't even have taken anything so crass as a fight, he could have thrown a fit and Kakashi would have gotten turned off and left him alone. He knew how to turn Kakashi off. But he shouldn't have to. When he told him not to touch him, it should have been enough. Would have been enough, if they had equal standing.

Kakashi held out his hand in a small gesture, watching for any sign of acceptance. His mood deepened into defensive anger as Iruka ignored it, getting up on his own, letting the soiled rag fall untouched.

"Don't be that way," Kakashi chided. "Tell me that didn't feel good."

Iruka's look rankled him before the words of bitter rejection left his mouth. "It made my body feel good. I guess for you that's all that matters."

"Oh, go to hell, Princess. Hey guard! Guard! We're done in here." It was good sex, and proper punishment, too, for having to watch Iruka live his life with such caring and giving for everyone except Kakashi.

Of course. Iruka knew it be like this if he didn't make nice. Kakashi was dressed and ready to leave. Iruka was still splotched in cum and half-naked, but that was his problem.

The guard that opened the door did it quickly, already grinning. So much for staying out of Ibiki's video collection. This session had probably been up on the closed-circuit in the guard station.

The guard smirked and took him by the shoulder. "Your cellmate oughta find this interesting. Leave those dirty pants there, you can clean up in your cell."

Iruka walked with folded hands over his groin, the shirt just barely covering his ass cheeks.

Jeninki watch as the guard snapped off the chakra cuffs and pushed the disheveled man into the cell. This was certainly a new development. His hair was down, his face was red, he had a distinct smell lingering about him…and he was nude from the waist down. It didn't take much to figure out what he'd been up to, generally. From the expression it hadn't been a good experience.

Hand over his mouth reflectively, Jeninki watched the kaleidoscope of emotions that played over the tanned face. Maybe it was an interrogation, that seemed about right. If he were an interrogator, and he had a guy like this in his inventory, he'd be tempted to use the same methods. Daily. Repeatedly. Slow and hard.

Whoa. He reined in his daydreams, paying attention again. The guy fell onto his cot and stopped moving, not covering up, not cleaning up. His shirt had hiked up and pretty much nothing was left to the imagination. This guy had obviously never been in prison before. Stupid, stupid move.

He cleared his throat, loudly. The figure on the cot flinched. "Get your lazy ass cleaned up and covered up."

Iruka lifted his head, then let it drop back.

"Do it. If you think it's okay to tease me like this you're wrong." Jeninki stood and walked over to the cot. "And one of those guards will come back and help himself if I don't. That's how it is in here."

"Why do you care?" Iruka groaned, the aftermath of the session with Kakashi pressing him into despair.

"Look, just…hold still and don't fucking try to start anything." He grabbed a pair of clean pants off the shelf and a washcloth from the sink, wetting it.

The cold cloth made Iruka sit halfway up before sinking back down.

"They got you pretty good, huh?" Jeninki asked quietly, unabashedly moving the washcloth in the places it was truly needed, gauging the muscle tone and falling into absent admiration, touching it all without pretense. "You'll be all right. It doesn't look like they hurt you." He kept dabbing and wiping slowly, even after the clean-up was pretty much done. "I know I wouldn't, in their shoes. You're going to be here a long time. I'd want to keep you in good shape for the long haul."

The longer the touches lingered, the more Iruka assumed that he was in for more action. If he had to do this, he'd just as soon get it over with while his sanity was already hitting bottom from his conjugal visit. But the hands didn't get more invasive, they didn't spend any more time touching one spot over another. It was almost soothing.

"Here, you're not hurt, you can do this yourself. Come on, sit up, pull yourself together."

That voice was so soft and concerned, Iruka looked up in spite of himself. Their eyes locked, and that same feeling flowed though his veins, as if the man was joining him inside somehow. It dissolved his defenses to the point where a tear slipped out before he could catch it.

"Oh, man. Those bastards." His cellmate resumed his help without breaking eye contact, getting the pants on him carefully. "You just can't get used to it, can you?"

"No." Iruka breathed the painful truth, and with a monumental effort succeeded in shutting his eyes tight. The hands left him then, and he heard the subtle sounds of Jeninki returning to his cot and settling there. The world twisted painfully. The filthy criminal was kinder and more trustworthy than his closest companion had ever been. He felt it in his heart when he looked into those burning eyes.

His hatred turned inward uncertainly, released from its attachment to his assigned enemy.

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

_R&R greatly appreciated; thank you all!_

Chapter 6

Kakashi started for the visitor's gate and Ibiki caught his arm none too gently.

"I need to see you in my office. Now."

Kakashi's expression remained blank, but inwardly he crowed proudly. Knowing that a camera was in the room had made it so much more erotic, and he'd made sure his show was easy to see from any angle. Ibiki wasn't social, but Kakashi new he could be had, and now that he'd seen the goods in action the big lug was wanting a personal demonstration. Rumor had it he was a powerhouse in the sack. It would be a sweet contrast to the helplessly fuckable toy he'd just enjoyed.

He stood casually in front of the desk as Ibiki threw the door shut and walked right up to look down into his face, very close and personal. Kakashi looked away with a smirk, waiting for the games to begin.

"I oughta put you up on charges. What the fuck was that little act in there?"

The jounin looked up with an arched eyebrow, but inside the words were a jolt.

"What's the problem?" he drawled. "Just loosening him up. Your suggestion."

"If he'd told you no a second time, I would have busted in there and thrown you in the brig. I told you this mission was just about beyond his ability to cope. Ever occur to you that using that situation to force yourself on him might have some small negative impact on his ability to bring this thing home?"

"I thought you were watching. I didn't force him into anything. He asked me to fuck him, Moreno. Asked. Play it back. He said please, _ple-e-e-ease _fuck me. I was just being polite."

"He was in cuffs and you worked him. That other crap means nothing. Don't forget who you're talking to. I can make you beg me to set fire to your balls. It just means I'm good at what I do; it doesn't mean you have some secret, inner desire for me to roast your nuts."

Kakashi sneered. "So, now what?"

"You're a real piece of work. Now I make some notes about your disorderly conduct and you get out of my sight before I lock you up anyway. The only thing that saved you is Umino's culpability in this. I let it go to teach him a lesson. He needs to learn to stand up for himself and get out of this victim mindset. I was hoping he'd take a risk and at least try to fight back . If he had, I'd have stepped right in to back him up."

"He did try once, a long time ago," Kakashi said, highly amused. "You'll play hell getting him to try it again."

"I see." Ibiki gripped his shoulder and yanked him to the door, shoving him out into the hallway. "Ten seconds. If you're still here, we dance."

Kakashi glared and brushed off his shirt where the hand had been. For a second, he considered having that dance.

"So I'm not on call for the pursuit?"

"This doesn't change your assignment. I need you here immediately if I see movement. But until I call you in, I suggest you keep that face-rag of yours as far away from here as possible."

Two ANBU stepped up to flank Ibiki. Kakashi turned and walked away, faking a carefree whistle, putting a insolent bounce in his step. He let his thoughts turn back to his lap full of wide open chunin, and that forced bounce turned into an inspired one.

By the time he went out of the compound he was half-hard again and getting a chill reliving the moment when Iruka swallowed him down hard.

So Ibiki had a soft spot for Iruka, even to the point of interfering with his relationships. There it was again: maddening evidence of that special little spark his chunin handed out, without a second thought, to every other breathing life form but him.

Ibiki could go to hell. Kakashi wasn't afraid of him anymore.

_o0o0o0o0o_

The two men sat cross-legged on their cots as time stretched in meaningless minutes towards sunset .

"Still love this village, sensei?" Jeninki said softly between bites, dutifully eating the watery rice mush and watching Iruka. The chunin was holding his full bowl with both hands and staring into it motionlessly. "Still owe them your life?"

Iruka shivered involuntarily, feeling Jeninki's eyes pulling at him. The mission. What else did he have left but the mission now?

"I have no where else to go," he said flatly. Hopelessly. Jeninki would never talk, and he'd never get out of here. He wasn't sure if he was so anxious to get out right now anyway. Ibiki had thrown him in here for the entertainment value and wasn't wasting any effort backing him up. If anything, he was setting him up for sport; that session with Kakashi left little room for doubt.

"Then come with me. Come and see what it feels like to be truly free and equal. Throw off your chains." The voice was an intimate whisper. Jeninki had slipped across the room quickly to join Iruka on his cot; now he was using his charismatic presence and unavoidably close proximity to its fullest, going all-out to sway the crushed soul. He hadn't needed to lift a finger to widen the cracks in the pathetic, damaged mind. His own people were grinding it into dust almost too fast for him intercept it while it was still functional. One more solid exposure to his eyes and he'd have him.

"You're in prison," Iruka said dully. "You're not going anywhere, either."

"Have faith in me, I have my ways. I just need a little information about the layout of this place and we can go any time. Tomorrow, if you want. And then…none of them will ever put a hand on you unless you want them to. Not ever again. Starting tomorrow, if you so choose." He thought the ear so close to his lips tensed somehow.

Iruka's breath caught. He was suddenly alert, alive, conflicted and panicked. His wide eyes turned to stare into his cellmate's, desperate to see if they held truth or mockery.

A jolt went through his body as time stood still and Iruka's vision swirled into nonsense. His train of thought disassembled, then snapped back together in a clarity of mind he had never known before. The first thing he saw was the confidence and conviction in those deep brown eyes. He saw with certainty that this man was his only hope.

"They're listening," he whispered, the last of his old, loyal devotions falling mortally wounded. This was over before it started.

Jeninki's smile startled his eyes back into motion. "It's all right, Iruka, I know where the mikes are. They can't pick us up talking this low with the guards working the doors."

Sure enough, the grating, clanging sounds that had so panicked him initially were rumbling unnoticed in the background, the blackest white noise of all.

"How?" Iruka's dazed eyes worked hard to make sense of the room again. Confused and disoriented, he struggled to maintain some kind of normalcy to deal with this turn of events.

"First, I need the layout of this compound. We can do it," he ran his tongue over Iruka's ear. "undercover. They want to think we'll get together, so we'll play along. I'm sure that's why they dropped you back in here naked and in shock before, so I'd be able to take advantage of you. Kiss me."

Iruka pulled his head back, shaking it slowly. Even when he closed his eyes, he saw that stare, interfering with his ability to think. Opening them again, he let out a breath and lost more of his grip on the situation. Jeninki was there again, invading him with that look.

"Just for show, Iruka. I promise." Jeninki's sincerity flowed into his head and quieted his conflicts, smoothing out his worry. Things seemed to be falling into place. The events felt less alarming and now it could be plainly seen that the plan was a sure thing.

He leaned in and Iruka met him uncertainly. The kiss was so lacking in aggression that Iruka feared it wouldn't convince anyone. Then it startled him to realize that it felt good. No, it felt wonderful. A kiss without anger or fear or humiliation or surrender. He could kiss back the very same way without battling for position. No one was dominant. Equals, the word full of promise, tasted like truth and matched the sweetness that came from this kiss.

Jeninki pulled away and touched his fingers to Iruka's lips in a caress. "Settle down," he whispered, his voice tinged with caring. "Just for show, remember? We're going to end up under the blanket. And you're going to scratch the layout of this place on my skin right below my navel. Just make sure that north is up. Make it look like you're pleasuring me."

Minutes later, sweating under the covers, Iruka began to question his rationality again. Here he was pushing aside a swollen penis to commit treason by raking a diagram into the flesh of a relative stranger's, no make that an enemy's, stomach. Reality was insanity at this point; his unwavering belief and full comfort with this plan moments ago seemed like the kind of idea that sounded perfectly logical when you were drunk, but was exposed for pure foolishness in the cold, sober light of the next day. The body had to writhe convincingly, increasing the difficulty of his task. He was trying to ignore the inspired acting when hands grabbed his ears and hauled him painfully up.

"I said harder!" Jeninki shouted in his face, then bit his ear with exaggerated force. "Scratch hard, don't worry about hurting me. Draw blood to make sure I can see it," he hissed quietly.

He lapped Iruka's upper lip and looked deeply into his eyes, drawing him back under his influence. He was stronger than anyone would have given him credit for, the chunin still needed reinforcement to keep him on the right track. Once he felt the tanned muscles begin to slack appropriately, he shoved Iruka's head back under the blanket and arched up. "Next time no blanket, no matter how shy you are," he grunted loudly for the listening devices.

It would have been a lot easier with chakra to etch into the sweaty belly. Iruka ran his nails, a little long due to the infrequent access to grooming tools, determinedly into the heaving flesh. By the time he was finishing, precum was defacing his work.

What little part of his mind that still escaped Jeninki's powerful, seductive influence agonized at the path this was taking. This really was treason, he had taken an irreversible step. If they got caught now, he could look forward to a lifetime of storage, of being conveniently on hand for Kakashi, or once word got around, any other shinobi that had a kink for defenseless targets.

A curious impulse struck him then; he had been given free rein to decide how to make it look good for the surveillance. He could think of no better way to make it convincing than to do it for real; and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, the novelty of doing something like this of his own volition was hard to pass up. What would it be like to make the decision himself and follow through without asking? With a tentative tongue, he began slicking up the flesh with his saliva and the bit of emission already there.

Hands grabbed his ears again in warning, but he went on anyway, mouthing and rolling the tightly swollen head against rough palate, lapping upwards with his tongue to keep the saliva thick and slippery and in the right places.

Jeninki let go of his ears and grabbed the edges of the cot, growling deep in his throat with the building pressure, already at the edge after going without for so long. His mind provided the scene hidden under the rough cloth, and he came hard, wondering vaguely about the chunin's independent show of boldness.

Iruka sucked him gently until he was clean, and lifted up to let more light under the blanket. The diagram was clear. The sex was benign, almost pleasant. His job was done, and he let Jeninki pull him up into a kiss.

It felt more real than the last one.

"That was nice," the rogue nin smiled, no need to hide that comment.

Iruka looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. With his long black hair fanned around him on the cot, he looked almost innocent. They fell into a kiss again; it was more exploring and sensual, and lasted much longer. Jeninki tightened his embrace and rolled them over. A tickle of excitement hit Iruka's belly, and the weight atop him pressed down possessively. He hadn't felt that without the accompanying dread for a very long time.

When the taller man moved away instead and left him breathless, the chunin fought the urge to grab him and haul him back down. He belonged with Jeninki now, it seemed like a fact of life. It would be so painful and lonely if he left him behind.

"My turn," smiled the strong, symmetrical face, sliding back under the blanket to curl up and examine the diagram.

To Iruka's disappointment, his partner's action was entirely simulated, the other man guiding his hand and making it plain he should induce the convincing activity himself.

By the time the chunin was dutifully messing the blanket, Jeninki had the diagram committed to memory and had obliterated its meaning with several sets of raked claw-marks. It was tender and sore but he snapped his pants up over it anyway. If only he could use a touch of chakra, he could have made it disappear instead.

He retrieved a wet cloth and helped Iruka put himself back together. There was no mistaking the attachment the smaller man had developed for him. He would come along willingly. Konoha's loss, Jeninki's gain.

The diagram had confirmed his guess. Their escape route would be through the inherent weakness in the containment near the exercise grounds. It further confirmed Iruka's new loyalty: it was irrefutable evidence of his willingness to place his life in Jeninki's hands. Between the two of them, only Iruka would have the knowledge to create that layout accurately. By providing it to his Konoha's enemy in a form he would be unable to destroy or reclaim, he'd effectively lain his neck on the chopping block and handed his cellmate the axe, trusting him not to take a swing with it.

Jeninki had no intention of amusing himself by revealing his cellmate's defection. He valued this fascinating, fiery shinobi's new allegiance very much. If things went as he hoped, by this time tomorrow they would be free to be enjoy their new life together, in a place without cruel bonds or prying eyes.

o


	7. Chapter 7

_Such wonderful R&Rs, now I feel guilty throwing this one at you. I can only say, in early defense of this chapter, that the story was heading in this direction from the beginning. And that it still has a way to go - if you can bear to hang in there..._

Chapter 7

They made their way into the partially- crumbled amphitheater, moving down the cracked, uneven stone steps to ground level. It was well outside of the boundaries of Fire Country, and they had finally reached it after a day's hard travel.

Their escape from Konoha was a testament to Jeninki's elite skills. It was almost unbelievable that they could have slipped away so unnoticed. Iruka detected no followers; he assumed that Jeninki could sense an even larger perimeter, and he hadn't mentioned any pursuit.

Most of the trip Iruka had tried to stay no further than arm's length from the larger and faster nin, to cling close enough to make sure he wasn't left behind. His efforts had gone largely unnoticed in the brutal speed of their travels. Those insecure, clingy feelings were fading the longer Jeninki ignored him and refused to stop and take the time to look at him. That was more to the point; they hadn't made eye contact in hours.

"Where is everybody?" Iruka asked, oddly having to pay close attention to his footing to keep from stumbling on the broken stone. His normal chakra balance was still off, so he had to slow down to take in his surroundings and remain steady on his feet. The stands would hold a thousand people, he guessed. But it looked like no one had been there in a very long time.

"Keep coming. Down here." Jeninki wasn't having any trouble with his movements; he had flown down the steps effortlessly and was growing more excited. He stopped and waited, fidgeting constantly, until Iruka caught up. An arched entrance led to a long hallway that sloped down into the earth. It did seem like there had been some activity here more recently. They trotted now, deeper and further into darkness until they approached another archway radiating light. When they moved through the opening and reached the enormous underground room, Iruka stopped and stared.

Skylights had been tunneled into the ceiling, providing stark, glaring rods of sunshine to light the cavernous earthen space. Their movement had stirred up powder-fine clouds of dust that drifted up in swirls and glittered lazily as they emerged out of the darkness. The stone flooring reflected the glare so harshly that the its intricate mosaic patterns were nearly impossible to interpret.

The perimeter of the room was difficult to make out, the rim of shadowy darkness lost in the contrast. The walls were lined with dozens and dozens of figures, and at first Iruka thought they were sculptures. But as his eyes adjusted, they came more clearly into view. Most were skeletal, but two were relatively fresh. Rotten and not quite past the bloating stage, they were now starting to feed nature's crypt keepers. The lifeless flesh was full of life, teeming with maggots and rats.

"See?" Jeninki said proudly.

Iruka slowly turned, gaping as his mind struggled to comprehend. Instinct urged him to flee, to take a defensive position. His body stiffened against retreat and his feet remained firmly planted, disobeying him completely.

"What do you think? Aren't you excited? Aren't you happy?" Jeninki twirled with his arms outspread and laughed, enjoying the way his hair flew out with centrifugal force. "I need my robes. I need them to swear you in."

"Jen. Jeninki!" Iruka said tightly. "Where are the people? Your citizens?"

"Are you blind? Just look around you, they're all here. Don't be shy now. There are those Leaf nin they got so tweaked about. See those smiles? See them?"

"You killed them?"

Jeninki ignored his breathless question. He stood involuntarily frozen, in stunned silence, until the enormity of the situation truly sank in.

"All of these people, you killed them all?" Iruka shook his head, trying to clear it, the dull haze finally lifting enough to process it fully. Why had he believed all that crap to begin with? His own behavior frightened and puzzled him nearly as much.

Jeninki finally spoke, fingertips lightly tapping his own chin in positive introspection.

"I naturalized them. They're fine, Iruka, every last one of them. Be patient, I need my robes. Go up closer to them and look at the smiles. See what true happiness is."

"They have no faces, Jeninki, you crazy son of a bitch! They're dead! You lied to me, you said they were all right, that you set them free!" Go up to them? He couldn't move, something was wrong with his body…the clearer his thinking became, the more evident the lack of control over his movement became. His hands quaked with shock; Jeninki wasn't even fazed by his outburst.

Jeninki paused, looking primly at the upset man. "I did set them free. Dead, what does that word even mean? Those are just words in a contract, something for the accountants. The important thing is that they are now the cherished citizens of my village, and I am the lord of them all; the benevolent and powerful ruler who allows them to be totally, completely free."

Iruka turned away, blasted by the realization. He'd thrown everything away for the ravings of a lunatic. The retribution he'd receive if he went back to Konoha was more than he could face. The perfect village worth giving his life for was non-existent. And the kind, considerate man that wooed him with such beautiful words was a delusional murdering psychopath .

Hands wrapped around his waist from behind, and he saw now that Jeninki had found his robes. The arms that encircled him were clad in emerald green silk with gold embroidery. The shock that went through his body, clenching all his muscles tight, told him the man's chakra was obscenely powerful and completely unbound. His own chakra was back now; but as always he found himself mismatched, up against the best with mediocre strength. Indeed, he was already trapped to the spot and unable to break away.

He laughed at himself bitterly, deep in his miserable soul, the last of his hope and pride flushed away. What a fool. Nothing had ever existed so perfect as Jeninki had described. Men in this dangerous age weren't free, except free to die.

"These men are free, don't obsess over the empty shells and ignore the bliss of the village beyond. Tell me, my heart, which man there was a civilian, and which one there was sannin? You can't tell, can you?"

Iruka's chin fell and rested on his chest, watching the strong hands caress his flinching stomach with such tenderness it was unreal.

"No," he whispered. "You're right. I can't."

"You feel so good, Iruka. It feels right to have you here. I owe you, you know. Without your help I couldn't have returned here so quickly."

Iruka was silent, staring down. The only thing he was actively doing was maintaining a chakra block on his olfactory senses in order to bear the proximity of the decomposing corpses.

Other than that, his mind had slowed to a halt.

"There's no hurry, you know? I have to stay here and send the others through, keep building our village's strength. But it's been lonely work, and you're such fine company." He nuzzled the crown of the quiet man in his arms, and brought an arm free to slide out the hair tie. They looked similar now, both with their long, dark hair cascading on their shoulders, bringing out the depth of their dark eyes and framing handsome, remarkable faces.

The taller man was breathing into his hair, nuzzling more, and his hands wandered more seriously.

"Stay with me," he breathed. "Help me build our perfect village."

Pain creased Iruka's brow as the gentle lips brushed his cheek, and he was being turned in those incongruously protective arms, drowning in the cherishing attention. He tried to hold back the tears but failed. The more the taller man tried to kiss them away in concern, the more he lost control, finally covering his face with his hands and growing close to breaking down completely. There was a dizziness in his thinking and it was welling up again, that strange muddling he'd thought was from the chakra block in the cell was still there.

Wasn't there anything that he was forced to bear that came without the extra twist of cruelty? Jeninki was covering his hands with kisses, petting his hair, cooing softly to soothe him.

After a while he stopped, startled out of his tears. He was lifted up, carried across to the entrance, down a corridor to another room, a small living space. Released back onto his feet, he swayed slightly while his host rummaged in a leather-bound chest and brought out wrist and ankle irons and the chains to attach to them. A long thin whip came next, and then a black hood.

"No." Iruka shook his head, pushing away the proffered restraints. He had to make some kind of stand, regain his composure. "I don't want to. I don't want _you_."

Chakra slammed him against the wall, tinged with anger for the first time. "You aren't free yet. Until you cross into the village, you 're mine to do with as I please."

"No." Iruka felt the last remnants of the false cocoon of Jeninki's caring hold melt away. He saw a murderer now, an insane enemy once more. When the eyes met his, that stare made him gasp. For the first time he saw clearly that the brown eyes were inlaid with large patches of gold, gold that slowly swirled clockwise. He slammed his eyes shut, breaking their intensifying hold. Damn it, without his chakra to see it, he'd been staring into some kind of sharingan all this time and never knew it. It suddenly explained so much; no wonder he had fallen into such bizarre beliefs like a gullible child. But now that explanation helped nothing.

"You aren't free yet, my bird." Chakra pressure held him tight while the shackles were placed nonchalantly and cinched up. "Is it that you've changed your mind? I sense, somehow, that you've lost your faith."

"Let me go. Please."

"You don't like my plan any more, do you? You shunned my village, I saw it just now deep in your eyes. Such beautiful eyes, too." He produced an ornate knife from the same chest the chains had come from. "Still, you have done me a favor. I can't ignore that."

His eyes sparkled with whirlpools of gold as he hefted the blade over his head solemnly until it seemed to glow. "So I will do you a favor in return. I can solve all of those problems of yours. They all start here, with your lying, beautiful face."

Iruka's head pressed back against the wall, away from the hand that touched his cheek. "No!"

Jeninki nodded. "Your face is so attractive. But you don't really want that kind of attention, do you? I've seen clear down into the very dirty, grubby bottom of your soul. Everything about you is a lie; and this, this is the biggest one." The knife traced against his temple, razor sharp and effortlessly drawing a seam of welling blood. "Don't…move…" Jeninki barely breathed, intent on his work.

He disobeyed, flailing hard against the restraints, the chakra, the fucking unfair world. There was no jutsu or practiced move that could be made trapped as he was, just furious, outraged, humiliated struggle, of no consequence against his powerful captor's methods. Jeninki waited, displeased, drawing away the blade. It had caused a bobble in the careful incision, an imperfection. He took his free hand and gripped Iruka's forehead, slamming it back so his head was solidly against the wall. With a lance of chakra he froze it there, his overwhelming power seizing it against the smallest of movements. It amused him that the eyeballs took up where the rest of the body left off, rolling wildly. "You're sure you don't want to be with me now?" He asked, a light, attentive look on his face. "You've really decided against joining my village?"

Iruka was now restrained in such a way that he couldn't answer even if he'd had one. The blade resumed its journey, tracing down around his jaw, under the chin, back up and around until the cut met in an unbroken line. He pulled the blade away, nodding judiciously, and darted the sharp tip into the span of flesh below the nose, cutting an oval just around the lips. Then around the nose, swerving wide to include the scar, and then around both eyes individually. His intensity on his work locked out the rest of the world.

"So it's true. You won't join me after all. Very well, then. For your lies, I sentence you to return to your miserable Konoha and your miserable life. For your help in returning me to my throne…I will use my powers to bestow a measure of mercy on that life."

Jeninki had never been so fascinated by someone. Never had he been willing to let them cede from his land. But when they were here and so close, all that existed was this man; this strange, passionate, angry, lying angel…and the task to be completed. This god-like act would place Iruka under his influence forever, even if they never crossed paths again. The incisions were finished, just to his liking. He placed his fingertips on the comely face, fingers spaced apart, and began to sing.

His voice was breathy at first, the song nearly too quiet to hear. As he got a little louder, the unfamiliar language formed a chant, and the flesh under the large hands began to shrink away from its incised borders. Iruka was arched uselessly against the wall in agony as the skin curled and shrank until it fell away. His face oozed with the loss of the epidermis, and Jeninki ended the song with a sigh and smiled.

"Now. Now you have harmony with your face, your heart and your mind. There's a certain dignity in being ugly, I think you'll find. And you can go back and be a little bit free, because no one will want to use you ever again."

"You can thank me another time, I'm very tired now. Disappointment makes me very weary. You weren't hoping for the whip, were you? I changed my mind about that. I don't think I like you that way after all, and there's no point in getting attached to you if you're just going to leave."

Iruka's eyes widened, darting back and forth suddenly. Jeninki shook his head sympathetically. "What is it, pet? I really do feel a bit sorry for you, I know you fell for me hard back there. I did appreciate your gesture there in the cell. You have a very sweet way of being intimate, has anyone ever told you that? If only our situ-"

The head flew forward in mid-sentence, spraying a fan-shaped mist of blood as it parted company with the shoulders it had just been attached to.

The look on Kakashi's visible face as he sheathed his katana and ran up to stand helplessly staring wasn't one Iruka had ever seen, or ever wanted to see again.

Ibiki shielded his horror and revulsion much better, stepping in and pausing to give the decapitated head a toe to roll it face up and check for possible recovery jutsu. There was none. The man was indeed dead.

Iruka's eyes shut. It should have been some sort of relief that they had saved him, but then, he had come to be here by betraying the interrogator and turning his back on his village and duty. He had defected and they had hunted him down without delay. There would be no help from these men now.

"Easy," Ibiki said, strong hands supporting him. He'd pitched forward, slung low on the chains, no longer plastered upright with chakra now that the his captor was dead.

Iruka kept shaking his head, letting it hang, denying the world.

"We'll get you out of here."

He shook his head still, letting the exaggerated swing make him dizzier, refusing to communicate.

His unbound hair was stuck to the majority of his raw fleshless face. _I should have joined Jeninki's village after all. There's nothing left for me in Konoha now but prison or execution._

"Hatake, snap out of it. Get his other arm." They were careful then, as if they were moving a friend or a comrade. Iruka's mind whirled in nausea and a strange, disjointed feeling.

"He's still under a little." It was Hatake Kakashi's voice, but the inflection warped the threads of reality even further. It sounded human and worried, a tone from the far past, and most assuredly not appropriate here.

"Yeah, he might be. Iruka, just relax. Let yourself go. We've got you." Even Ibiki's voice seemed placating and unreal.

They carried him out of the room and lay him back down in the hallway. An ANBU came swimming into his view towering above, then another. This was it then, they would take him into custody now.

There was talk in the background impossible to hear, the subdued timbre of the voices colored with distress and concern. The words were too low to make out.

"I want you to count backwards from one hundred, Umino-san," the face in the hazy blob of white mask said, doing something he wasn't sure of with his arm that pinched for a moment. "You did a good job. You're going to be fine."

The other mask swam over him now, too. He didn't make a sound, much less count, and everything accelerated away from him, the noise and the pain and the light. In nothingness he drifted away.

_tbc_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thank you for the R sorry for the trauma... _

**Chapter Eight**

"I didn't expect to see you here," Tsunade said, fixing Ibiki with a cold, sideways look. She hung the clipboard on the bedrail much harder than necessary.

"I wanted to look in on him."

"Well, do you like what you see? Do you?"

Ibiki shook his head , moving to the bedside to get a closer look. "You'll be able to fix that, though. Over time."

"No, Ibiki, I won't. There was a very good jutsu involved. No skin graft will take. I've been trying to find some way to make it work, but I doubt he'll ever have a face again in the normal sense. So far it's all that I can do to effect enough healing to give him some sort of barrier against infection, and keep the surface weeping to a minimum. And that's if I'm lucky."

"Damn," Ibiki grunted, a wince crossing his face.

"Your report doesn't explain it sufficiently. Why did you lag so far behind? Why didn't you intercept them the minute you had the location of his hideout?"

"Kakashi submitted that report and he was not privy to all of the details. You'll have mine to amend it with this afternoon. We were taking precautions, for one thing. It wouldn't have done him any good if we'd gone thundering in their and set off traps and buried them alive. It's always a strong consideration when you're looking at anything underground. "

Tsunade's glare softened, but Ibiki knew he didn't deserve to be taken out of the hot seat so easily, so he continued.

"But there was an error factor there as well. I did delay our intervention, and by the time we detected the chakra of the damaging jutsu it was too late. I was doing Umino a favor," the lumbering shinobi said quietly. "I wanted to let him get free of the subliminal control by himself. He was doing it, I could sense that he was fighting hard. He was struggling against it and starting to succeed. It would have been good for him to break free on his own instead of being rescued like some victim. Empowering."

Tsunade's head was shaking back and forth. "You should have stayed close and pulled him out immediately. Jeninki's style of control is insidious…was insidious. They were together over a period of days, it would have built up and started taking root, and he probably thought he was going insane. I made my own mistakes. I should have supervised this more closely. He should have been warned, Ibiki."

"He was more effective this way. I don't think he could have pulled it off if he knew ahead of time. We might not have been able to discern just how completely the Uzingan worked in spite of the suppression field. His resistance training against being possessed would be too strong for him disengage, at least not completely enough to fool someone like Hidata."

"Perhaps. It's pointless to argue now. We brought a lot of missing shinobi remains home to rest. We know where our two nin went and, sadly, what became of them. Everyone that took part in the sortie came home alive except the enemy. Only one casualty, and not fatal. By all definitions, I have to admit that the mission was successful. So your reputation remains untarnished, Morino."

"I should go." Ibiki allowed his hand to rest on Iruka's bare shoulder for a fleeting moment. It felt soft and alive, a feeling so foreign that it caused the powerful hand to draw away immediately. Other than a few bruises and severe shock, the physical damage was confined to one area. Even against his most despised foe, Ibiki had never conceived of a torture like this one. He duly noted it, but in his heart he knew that he would find it nearly impossible to use.

"I'm not sure what he'll remember when he wakes up. Until I can make him understand the influence he was under, and why we used him as we did, I think it's best you stay away."

"As you wish. I was hoping to be of some assistance with his recovery. If my services will be of value at some point I would be honored to help. But, Lady, a word of warning - there's someone else I think you should restrict from visitation."

"You mean Kakashi? I saw the video, Ibiki - and by the way, you're lucky that I don't throw your ass in your own brig for not putting some kind of warning on the damned thing before I watched it. It was not a comfortable thing to witness. But Kakashi didn't hurt him, and he didn't put up a fuss…and technically he did ask for it. A blind man could tell he didn't mean it and didn't want it. But Kakashi didn't break any laws, so I'm not indicting him. It's poor sportsmanship, but it's not illegal to have sex with someone in confinement in chakra cuffs. I hope you weren't wanting it back, because I already destroyed it."

"You'd trust him in here while he's unconscious?"

"I never said that. He's already banned from visitation. I'm just making sure you don't take any unofficial action against him."

"Fair enough. I rated his performance on the away mission as acceptable already anyway. " He stepped back, still gazing at the unrecognizable man on the bed and effectively concealing the unrelenting waves of regret. "When do you think he'll come around?"

"He's still days away from waking up. His mind is still decompressing from the influence of the Uzingan on top of the trauma, so I'm going to keep him in deep sleep to make it easier on both of us. I haven't given up completely on finding some way to reverse this jutsu. I only hope I can find a way to make some kind of progress before I have to explain all this to him. You're dismissed, Ibiki. "

She waited until the door safely closed to let her shoulders sag and use the heel of her palm to force the excess moisture out of her eyes. Holding Iruka's limp hand in both of hers, she concentrated her healing powers and channeled as much positive, reassuring chakra as she could muster into the silent form. He would need support and he would need extra precautions; and he would need hope…that would be that hardest part to heal, and the most important factor of all.

xxxxxxxxx

Umino Iruka had finally settled into his new routine, but it was about to change drastically again.

The heavier curtains topping privacy shades brought a cave-like feeling to his formerly friendly, almost whimsical apartment décor. Only the blazing knife-edge of light skirting the outlines of those window coverings provided the light for his morning preparations.

In the weeks since he'd been home, recovering physically and presumably mentally from his ill-fated yet successful mission, he'd learned the skills of the blind. Even at night he rarely turned on a light, yet he accomplished every task, with few mishaps. He had no need of illumination at home most of the time.

His pattern was unique. After showering came the careful application of the gel to his face, then the waiting. It would congeal into a flexible coating; it was clear, although that was no favor whatsoever visually. That coating protected him as his skin would have, and it then allowed him to affix the mask.

It was the tried and true porcelain of the ANBU, a material tested and perfected for long-term wearability and relative comfort. No matter how Iruka had tried to modify it, or pad it, or space it away, after a few hours certain places where it touched his face would begin to ooze like open sores, and there was nothing for it but to tolerate it. It was hidden from public view, no one else's problem. As was Iruka himself, now that he was no longer the sexiest chunin in town.

That old, dubious honor was the reason he had been subjected to constant pursuit most of his life and in consequence was the reason for his absence of experience in seeking out company himself. That reason was now gone. No one approached him with any intent of touching, much less molesting him. Few approached him at all.

Even his friends, those he historically considered his friends, had sort of backed away. For whatever reason, they no longer tried to haul him to the bar, or the ramen stand, or the training field.

And he hadn't seen Kakashi once since he was injured. Not in the hospital, not breaking into his apartment like he always did, not on the street…not once.

That was not a coincidence no matter how the chunin had tried to convince himself in the first couple of weeks after his release.

Mask in place, now the light could go on. Just the one in the hallway, a twenty-five watt, and it cast its sallow wash of light into the adjoining rooms. Iruka pushed shut the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and checked the mask in the mirror. He made sure his hair was right. Not that it mattered. It just felt better to have it centered, and to see that it was done up well enough not to fall out. Nothing really could be done for appearance's sake except the mask. Satisfied that his hair should last the day, he opened the cabinet again so that the mirror faced the wall. It was the only mirror left in the house, and it only closed for a moment each day when he checked his mask. He had no desire to see his facial wreckage ever again.

He gathered up his box of teacher's aids and lesson plans, and placed it on the borrowed hand truck. Next came a case of mixed teacher's supplies, a gift set of instructor's kunai, and case of flash cards, exercise books and bulletin board decorations. That was it, the last of it.

Today was his last day at the academy. He'd gone back bravely and tried so hard to make it work. But he was largely mute now, and the kids didn't have anything to relate to when he stood before them at the head of the class. It wasn't fair to try and teach them with expressionless mask and mime the skill they would need to kill, survive and cope in the vicious, dangerous, unforgiving world.

The effort went on too long after Iruka became agonizingly aware that it wasn't going to work. It was merciful, in its cruelty, that the trap lesson backfired with his restricted vision and the mask had come free. The children were terrified. It was late in the day, so not only was the gel barely holding things together, the spots where the mask chafed looked like raw meat. It pretty much signaled the end of the game.

Many of the parents complained vehemently, as their children came home that day with horrified stories instead of corrected papers. Most were reported by their parents as having nightmares. The kids were distraught in the classroom in the following days. Some were sad and teary at his pain, some were repulsed and distracted, and a few were scared and defensive. No one could teach against such odds. With the concurrence of Tsunade, he'd stepped down.

He rolled the boxes into the teacher's lounge and parked the school hand truck there with them. Somebody would take these thing and get some use out of them. He'd been gifted just a few of the items, for the most part he'd purchased it all with his own money; but he saw no earthly use to keep it, and being wasteful just wasn't a part of his make-up.

And having it at home would just be another reminder of what he was missing.

Everyone knew it was his last day. The new teacher had already taken over, leaving him free to clean things out and tie up loose ends. There wasn't anything in his desk he wanted. Nothing in the lounge. No one made an effort to be there, although everyone knew what time he was supposed to drop off this stuff. There wasn't going to be a goodbye party or luncheon. He'd made a convincing argument against it, since eating was done in private.

If anyone had wanted to see him off, two seconds of thought would have told them that they could still step out for a drink. But it was dropped, if anything with relief instead of disappointment. On both sides.

Some things happen and you find out who your friends truly are. Truly, Iruka had one. Now that he was an abomination and could spare few words, the only person who sought him out was Naruto, on his rare visits to the village.

If it wasn't for the promise of partial disability checks he would be facing the prospect of moving into a studio apartment in the genin commons. He couldn't bear to man the mission desk for any longer shifts than he already did. But today he went there early, when the rising hurt from standing in the empty teacher's lounge got to him. He'd left his farewell to the students in cheery, big letters on the chalkboard last night after hours, so that it would be there when class started in the morning. He couldn't see putting any of them, himself included, through some melodramatic goodbye scene. It was over. Bury it.

Walking along to the mission room, down mostly empty halls and out into the street, he saw glimpses of himself in the windows. It looked creepy, the featureless mask without the ANBU armor. There were no animal markings, and the glaze had a blue cast to it, to distinguish him from ANBU on sight. It was, after all, a crime to impersonate an elite.

It was almost funny, when he was young his mother and father coveted the ANBU mask, raised him with the thought that it was _the_ goal…and that was just a step on the way to becoming sannin. They were A+class jounin after all, and it was expected that their son, the next generation of pure shinobi by nature and nurture, would surpass them.

So it was bitterly ironic that he'd earned his porcelain mask as a mere chunin, and it was because he'd had his ass handed to him once and for all.

It was further irony that a man who couldn't seem to hold his tongue properly despite the dictates of rank and respect, now no longer said more than a handful of words a day. A part of it was due to his new disability. His coated, masked face could move very little without starting to agitate the tender surface, and eating and talking were the worst offenders. They were the most damaging moves next to smiling and frowning, useless acts given the mask and more easily left behind now.

It was amazing how few words really needed to be said after a moment's consideration. Sometimes several days passed without a single utterance. People with complicated issues now filtered to any desk but his when turning in mission reports. No longer the great equalizer, dressing down insolent jounin, chunin and genin alike for poor work and late submissions, he became more of an intake clerk, silently stamping, reviewing, and passing less than adequate work to the next desk. The whole mission room had become like a library, silence suddenly the proper atmosphere, with joking and laughter rare indeed.

As the days marched on without regard to the loss of his title as sensei, it clearly wasn't enough. Too many hours woolgathering alone, noticing the turned heads and diverted paths when he came near, and the total absence of visitors or invitations out, crushed him further into solitude. He moved in total darkness in his home now, no longer needing the light even to check his mask. The shattered medicine cabinet mirror had been tossed out some time ago. The new, flesh-colored gel Shizune was developing for him was too horrendous to wear in public and he no longer tried on the new batches she left for him at the mission desk. He stuck with the clear gel and the mask, the silence, the darkness, and the seclusion.

Tsunade had forced him come in for an exam after Shizune complained about his unwillingness to try the latest gel. Iruka nodded and shook his head to her questions, small movements. He finally spoke as she was preparing to end the examination, her spirits depressed as always at the wounded thing he had become.

"I want a mission."

Startled, Tsunade was going to laugh, and caught herself. A mission for a mostly mute, unresponsive, depressed chunin who hadn't been training in…a year, probably.

Maybe. He was still shinobi under it all. So…maybe.

"I know of nothing suitable at the moment. I will keep your request in mind if something appropriate becomes available. I make no promises."

Iruka nodded with a grain of hope, a bare movement to avoid pulling at his face.

xxxxxx

Iruka was folding down an unruly crease on a mission report after stamping it in and giving the shinobi his standard wave denoting the end of their business transaction. He had to cant his head forward a little further than was comfortable to see through the mask to do so, ignoring the next in line with a touch of annoyance at experiencing pain doing something so pedestrian.

"Ahem," a female voice boomed, and a scroll thwacked down hard on the desk. The startling demand for his attention adding a touch of fuel to Iruka's small spark of irritation.

But the seemingly rude, impatient shinobi was not. It was his ebullient Hokage, and the scroll was not for a completed mission. It was a new C-rank. And it was his.

"No? Not interested?" she smiled at his initial startle reaction before he had a chance to regroup, her blue eyes crinkled with mischief. "Having too much fun to get away for a while?"

He was slow to take it, scarcely believing what was being offered. Because it wasn't just a mission scroll. It was the only sign of acceptance he'd received, the only gesture to invite him back into shinobi society that he'd been shown so far. It had taken so many months, and all the while more and more of what he was and what he had been was dying and falling away like the diseased branches of a hopelessly infested oak.

But he was a shinobi in his heart and soul, no matter what anyone else's opinion might have been over the years. When he taught the children, he did not to teach because he could not do…he taught them because he believed in helping them to become what he was at his core. For the good of the village he selflessly passed on the glory and the excitement and suppressed his warrior instincts until he had nearly domesticated himself. Few of those famous, lauded, elite shinobi would have had strong enough egos to weather the agony of self-depreciation his old career path required. He learned to ignore the demands of his embattled pride when it screamed at him to throw off the desk-ninja chains and run wild in the forests; to resist indulging in his animal instincts to drink deep of the blood of their enemies. He had played his unimaginably difficult role so long that he failed to step away from it even after the need for it vanished.

But it was just a role he'd played, a necessity to properly nurture the treasure that was Konoha's young. Inside the will of fire of his ninja instinct burned still, and being tucked away had protected it from harm as his old life shattered and littered his days with the stench of rotting familiarity.

His Hokage's laugh fanned that flame as she took his hand and placed the scroll in it.

"Study this carefully before you set out. I'm not giving you a cream puff here, this has some complex and dangerous features. It ranked as a C but I'll wager it's a B before you're through. Are you sure you only want to go solo? I can justify two men on this."

The silence that had fallen over the dozen or so souls in the mission room was charged with electricity. Everyone witnessing the Hokage's words had strong reactions of shock.

"Solo." Iruka's seldom-used voice was unexpectedly strong and clear.

"Very well. The desk will have to live without you for a week, they might as well get used to it now. Take off and get your things together. Do your best." Tsunade turned and glared at the jounin behind her. "Don't you listen? This line is closed." She waved them over to the next desk and flounced out of the room.

Iruka went to clear the desk quickly, but not quite quickly enough. He wanted to preserve this moment, to go contemplate privately this new development without distraction.

But his excellent hearing picked up the whispered, "She must be so fucking drunk she doesn't know what she's doing." and the snicker of reaction.

He gripped the scroll until his knuckles whitened and transported away, leaving the filing and logging undone on his desk for the jerks to deal with as a small token of his esteem.

If this mission went well he was never going to sit behind that fucking desk again.

He was able to transport all the way home, quite a feat considering the distance. But his skills were not as rusty as one might think. He had been training, as painful and potentially futile as that effort was up until now. He trained in seclusion, a fact he'd revealed to no one. Well, certain people probably knew, those for whom knowing everything was adjunct to their profession. He disliked knowing that Ibiki was one of those people, but there was little to be done about it.

His hands were steady as he slid open the curtains and raised the shade, taking in the long lost sight of cheerful sunshine flooding into the living room. He needed that light to study the scroll.

Because he needed that scroll to find his light.

With that thought he read the first read piece of writing that had fully captured his interest since the last essay he'd corrected months before. It was just a reconnaissance, the primary skill required was stealth. It wouldn't be easy and the location was in Mist territory, so the elements of personal risk were not exaggerated. It wasn't patronizing or contrived. It was a legitimate mission at the upper end of his current skill and ability level. It was evidence of belief in his useful existence.

Deep in his chest a dam was bursting and the flow of time began again for the first time since his possession by the rogue nin.

The days ahead suddenly held interest again, full of unknowns and opportunities. He tapped at his mask and listened to the melodic ring of the porcelain. Jeninki's words of freedom, however insane, had taken root and festered in his trapped soul up until now. Getting out for this mission felt like escape from the slavery and callous treatment that made up the routine of his days.

If this went well, he would use his hold over Tsunade to bid for full-time mission status. He smelled the guilt on her every time she had him remove the mask for his examination. There was no reason not to use that unwanted pity to his advantage if he chose to.

The specks of house-dust dancing in the sunlight brought back a flash of memory, of the dust drifting and sparkling in the shaft of light as his vision adjusted and the village of dead shinobi had come into view. Jeninki, the lunatic, still came to him in his dreams, beautiful and beckoning. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to despise him completely. The majority of the pain from his wounds came from the people of Konoha. Jeninki's caring was grossly misguided, but at least it had been sincere. Iruka privately indulged in a traitorous sense of loneliness over his loss.

He shook himself back into the present. Kami, it felt like a lifetime since last he'd packed for any mission, and it had literally been years since he'd had to pack for anything longer two nights. There were kunai and shuriken to sharpen, senbon to find, he'd need to buy dry rations and a survival kit that didn't have expiration dates from three years ago…his body interrupted his busy thoughts with the news flash that his cheeks hurt. He hadn't had anything worth the pain of smiling for in so long that it felt good in a way, but he stopped it immediately. His face would no doubt give him enough trouble with all the movement necessary in week of travel status.

He almost forgot to draw the shade and close the curtain when he finished reading the scroll. A whole week with no sideways looks or wagging tongues lay before him. He tapped the mask to assure himself it was snug and set out to buy the things he'd need.

How strange life was. After so many years, he was back at the crossroads. The path that he'd chosen and dedicated his life to was closed and now he had been returned to start anew with a second chance at the life he'd foregone. There was no real decision in it. He'd reached the end of the other journey and all that was left of it was the dead end at its terminus.

And the silent avoidance of the hardened shinobi was a blessing in disguise now. The derisive things they would have offered as comment to his reinstatement as full-time ninja would probably hurt, no matter how he tried to shrug them off. He closest jounin companion would fight him fiercely over the decision had they still been in touch. He would have told him it was suicide. He would have followed him and interfered on his behalf with the Hokage and stepped in to try and save him whether he needed it or not.

The way was clear, his conscience was clean, and the time was now. Never had he felt such control over his circumstance. It was appropriate now to allow his ego to swell and his powers to rise to the surface. He had no doubt in his ability to prove himself to Tsunade. Now he would find out what sort of shinobi he was capable of being. His only challenge would be patience if she didn't see things his way.

xxxxxxxx

Being tenacious was an excellent trait in a Hokage. Anything shelved as unresolved remained in her mind and kept re-emerging until it could be resolved in some way. Some things merely required the passage of time to take care of themselves and drop from her to-do list. But a few things became pet projects, and she invested her spare time, when she had it, to work on them diligently. Eventually it paid off, one way or another. After many months of off-and-on effort, the payoff this time was going to be spectacular.

Tsunade smacked her hand on the desktop, calling Shizune in with a rare sober laugh.

"What is it, Lady?" Shizune asked.

"I have perfected it, finally. This is our new treatment for deep burns and the like, it's brilliant - even if I do say so myself. Send for Iruka, he should be back from his last B-rank by now. Don't tell him, Shizune, but this is it." She held up the test results and waved them to punctuate her words. "In two steps I can give him his face back."

The dark-haired kunoichi beamed and bowed low. "Bless you, I've been so worried about him. Maybe now he can start to become his old self again."

xxxxx

The argument Shizune heard leaking out of the doors was rather one-sided. Tsunade was doing all of the yelling. But it was more than obvious what Iruka's part in the exchange must have been. He must simply have been shaking his head in the negative.

The door flew open and Tsunade had Iruka by the arm, escorting him physically with her to the medical unit. "The first procedure will strengthen what you have already so the mask won't damage you further, and protect you from infection. Now that you practically live in mission status its an absolute necessity to preserve your facial integrity. You won't need the gel. You're getting this whether you want it or not. I don't know if I'll let you opt out of the second procedure either. I think that's just your poor mental health talking!"

Her angry words echoed in the hall as she drug him with her.

Shizune felt worse than before. She never imagined that he would choose not to be set back to rights. Maybe the old Iruka couldn't come back to them, ever. She couldn't wait for her shift to end to go find Genma and share these disturbing thoughts with someone. The front doors fell shut, and the angry voice was cut off, leaving behind a vacuum of silence.

_tbc_


	9. Chapter 9

_Let me lead off by saying this chapter is quite short. There is a pivot point just beyond it and it was the right place to break it off (I hope); when I make chapters too long things bog down and it makes for slow updates. I keep trying to improve on that but no luck so far. Your R&R-ing is much appreciated._

**Chapter 9**

It was far better not to have to fiddle with the gel and be careful with the mask. The mask was quite comfortable now, and sometimes when he donned it a little hint of something similar to happiness quirked in his chest. It made everything a hair more comfortable. He no longer felt like an outpatient, a sickly person slow or perhaps never to recover. He was what he was now, and his disfigurement was irrelevant to his general health.

It was liberating. He was flying through A and B rank stealth missions in record time, killing, kidnapping and stealing like a old pro. When the notice was attached to his mission scroll, acknowledging his contribution to noble Konoha society, the offer it held helped him to remember for a moment how to smile. His points accumulation had exceeded it two missions ago, but they finally got around to giving him the official document. All he had to do was sign on the dotted line, and he would officially start his jounin probation period.

Ibiki had been sniffing around, feeling him out for eventual ANBU recruitment. His mission ratings were nearly straight tens, and his reports were the flawless works of historical accuracy that one would expect from a man of his mission desk experience. Iruka had mulled it over and in the end, he decided that he was disinterested in the torture specialist's elite organization. He only assigned the required official trust to Ibiki. In his heart, he was as suspicious of the man as he was of any enemy. Given the option, he would turn down any assignment or promotion that would put him under Ibiki's command. He sometimes heard himself whisper in his head when he saw the imposing figure cast him an approving look: '_never again'_.

On an unspoken level, Ibiki was fully aware of his position. Again it was apparent how unnecessary ninety-nine percent of all speech truly was. While it was no longer incumbent upon Iruka to hold silent to spare his flesh, he continued on his wordless path and found that the world could harm him far less because of it.

It was almost humorous when, perhaps twice a year, some collection of circumstances would thwart Kakashi's concerted effort to avoid crossing paths with him. The lone eye would regard the blank mask, and in the nothing that was said, oceans of emotion would flow between them. They scurried in opposite directions as quickly as possible, neither wanting any interaction with the other. In this they were seamlessly united.

When Iruka came off probation and was officially listed as special jounin, Kakashi was concerned. There was a much greater risk that they might end up assigned on a mission together, or worse, paired as a team. He filed a variance, a complaint, and a request. All centered around making sure he never had to work with one Umino Iruka again.

That, had he known about it, would have suited the new special jounin in question just fine. No overrated copy-nin made it to his list of desired teammates, either. Actually, his list was quite short.

He worked alone. Period.

Only Tsunade saw him without the mask when he came in for his examinations, or when he was injured. In his first year he had worked his way up to the top ten in earnings among the jounin, taking mission after mission without a break. He never spent his cut except for mission supplies and the bare necessities, amassing a healthy bank account and keeping the small apartment in the chunin section, shunning the jounin district entirely. He never opted for down time, and spent the amount that was forced on him in restless seclusion. That is, except for the rare visit from his favorite former student.

"Hi, Iruka-sensei," Naruto said respectfully as the door slowly opened, looking at the light blue mask with that mixture of love, pain and loneliness that his visits now inspired. He loved Iruka with all his heart, and felt for him openly the pain the man himself denied. And a sense of loss was there too, a mourning of sorts for the passing of their easy, glib, affectionate relationship. Silence and nods were some small solace. At least they were both still here, alive and caring for one another.

But as it became clear that even conversation with Naruto was considered largely extraneous by his mentor, the garrulous young man slowly fell to injured silence himself. Now their visits were things of poignant sadness and regret. Naruto couldn't bring himself to give up on seeing Iruka completely, but the infrequent visits were never instigated by the man in the mask. So if they were to continue to have a relationship, it was entirely up to him.

His visits to Iruka felt largely the same as the trips to the memorial stone to visit his last sensei, Jiraiya.

The sorrow ate a small wound in his heart, where he kept his love of his first special person pigeonholed for safekeeping, refusing to let it die no matter what.

This night, moonlit and cool after a hot, busy day, found them restless in Iruka's darkened living room.

"Walk?" Naruto asked, starting for the door. The mask nodded and they strolled out under the wincing stars.

They ambled aimlessly, ending up just outside the iron bars of the academy gate. Naruto felt his heart twist as he looked at the old, well-worn wooden entrance doors; at this, the place where they had made their noisy, rambunctious connection so many years ago.

His breath hitched, and he shook his head. There was no point in saying anything. The slight slump to Iruka's shoulders clearly showed that he was feeling it, too.

Iruka's hand went to the gate latch, but instead of tugging it open, he fondled the cast iron slowly.

This, too, said more than words. Naruto laced his arms around Iruka's waist from behind and buried his head against the tanned neck. He was half a head taller than Iruka now, but it still felt right. Iruka laid his hands on the young man's muscular forearms, patting and then giving a tentative squeeze.

The fruitless waiting for words tested the young shinobi's patience beyond its limit as their sad embrace grew awkward.

"Enough!" Naruto blurted, pushing away. "Talk to me, damn it! You can talk, there's not a damn thing wrong with your voice! I need to hear it, don't you care? I need it!"

"Naruto," the mask said, a tight choking voice. "Stop."

"No, I won't! Take off that damned mask and face me like a man! I don't care what you look like, just talk to me like I'm a person. This is killing me, I can't take it. Once I had three amazing, magical sensei. Now I have none. At least Jiraiya has an excuse, he's dead! You and Kakashi-sensei…it's crap!"

Iruka swallowed. A question nagged in his mind, but he ignored it. "I can only do what I can do," he lamented.

"Bullshit. You're not trying. You don't even try to talk to me. You just hide behind that mask and try to make me go away."

"No, Naruto, that's not true."

"It is, and you know what? I'm not letting you get away with it any more. If you want to see me, anytime, I'm here for you. I love you, Iruka-sensei, and I'll hate every minute that I'm without you. But you have to come find me next time. You have to decide to see me. If you never do…then I'll know you don't care anymore. That your big stone face act is more important to you than me. Because that's the way you make me feel now. Like I'm not worth talking to if it puts a crimp in your act."

"I didn't mean it like that, Naruto." Iruka's stunned tone reflected his shock.

"Save it. Save it until you come to see me." With that, the tearful blond spun and darted to the rooftops, leaping into the night.

Iruka's head tipped forward in pained silence. He deserved that. He hadn't been able to bring himself to make the effort needed to maintain their relationship. He sometimes thought of things he should do, but never managed to do any of them, stalled by a sense of reluctance he couldn't understand and failed to overcome. But a small question twittered in the back of his brain.

Why was Kakashi-sensei lumped in as a missing sensei?

What right did that arrogant bastard have to turn his back on Naruto, when there was not a damned thing wrong with him? Lazy, selfish, cold hearted _prick_.

In another time, his former life, it would have been obvious that the way to make things right would begin with following Naruto, opening his heart, and finding some way, any way, to reunite them properly. It would have been unthinkable to let Naruto suffer as he must right now, feeling rejected and alone and hurt. It would have been unbearable to be the cause of such unhappiness for one he held so dear.

But things had changed, and Iruka failed to see that side of it. He saw himself being rejected, and he saw that the reasons were valid, so there seemed to be no need to look further. There was no real argument. He deserved to be rejected. Naruto was well within his rights to walk away. He likely had walked away from Kakashi the same way. No doubt that asshole deserved it even more that Iruka. His hands tightened into fists at the mere thought.

No, he chastised himself, anger would do no good. Only work, training and meeting objectives brought him success at the end of the day. His last stronghold of human emotion had given up on him now. Now all that was left was to excel. To fully become the elite, unique shinobi of his dead parent's dreams.

Having lost all of his own, dead people's dreams were as good as any.

_tbc_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"What kind of crap is this? Do I understand that you're letting Danzou train ANBU again? You're letting him train new ROOT shinobi?" Kakashi fumed at Tsunade, and Ibiki looked properly annoyed at the jounin's lack of restraint. "Have you forgotten his tricks with Sai? Danzou can't be trusted! He abused that boy and he abused his position. You're insane if you let him get his hands on one more kid."

"We have a volunteer," Ibiki said. "An adult volunteer."

"Who the hell would be so stupid?"

"ROOT identities are secret."

"Yeah…right. So we won't know who the traitor is in our midst."

"If he can turn this man into a true traitor…then there's no hope for any of us," Tsunade sighed. "I don't know how you heard about this, but unhear it for a moment. We need to start over. How did you find out?"

"I spelled Tern at his post on the door. It was legit, I'm sworn."

"You'd better be. I won't hesitate to put you on charges this time, Kakashi. This gets repeated and you'll regret it."

"Fine. So why am I here? Don't tell me that you want me to be one of Danzou's guinea pigs!"

"No. But I'm considering," she cocked an eyebrow and looked up to check the torture specialist's expression. "having you keep tabs on the trainee. We're not in agreement that you're the correct shinobi for this job. Ibiki wants a Hyuuga, for a number of reasons. I have my own for thinking that you might be more appropriate."

"And I have an objection to using you regardless," Ibiki frowned.

Kakashi smirked. "I'm flattered and all, but there must be somebody else, someone you two can agree on. This is pretty damn important."

"No. The decision is mine. I just wanted to give Ibiki a chance to convince me otherwise. He's quite dead-set against it. And I do value his opinion…just not more than my own."

They were both watching Kakashi intently. He laced on his best shinobi look of impassiveness and shrugged. "So make up your minds."

"I'll reveal the name of the candidate to you, Kakashi. No one must know."

"Of course."

"It's Umino Iruka."

Kakashi's carefully controlled face revealed no reaction. But his shock escaped in the form of a slowly bobbing Adam's apple as he suppressed his sudden gulp.

"He's…" Kakashi fell silent. Disfigured? Disassociated with humans in general? Insanely focused on nothing but his missions? Seemingly void of emotion and the need of comradeship?

Hell, Iruka was nearly ROOT already.

"So what would you expect of me? I have no insights into Iruka's life anymore. He avoids me completely."

"You could remedy that."

"You're wrong. I don't think there's anything I could do that would get Iruka to let me anywhere near him. Not me…or Ibiki."

Tsunade looked at him levelly. "You've never tried, of course. Ibiki has. Iruka doesn't trust him. Iruka should trust him, true, but his distrust is almost tangible and it exists on a very deep level. You on the other hand…you had a relationship with him."

"Had. The active word there is 'had'. We have nothing since his, ah, injury."

"And why is that?"

Kakashi stared back and a million answers, all true and many contradictory, leapt into his head at once. Guilt. Physical revulsion. Pity. Embarrassment. Self-defense. Love. Anger. Shame. Selfishness. Mercy.

"We just avoid one another."

"I want you to get close to him again, Kakashi. This training is dangerous, and invasive mentally. We know that Hidata Jeninki used his Uzingan to penetrate Iruka's mind and create illusory thoughts to control his beliefs. We have come to suspect that Danzou uses a similar method, perhaps the very same method. He may even share clan connections with Hidata. His bid to train new recruits comes at an intriguing time. I want to know what he's up to. I can't forewarn the candidate, so I need someone close to him to make the observations secondhand. As far as Iruka knows, this is his chance to become one of the most powerful shinobi in Fire Country. He accepted without a moment's thought."

"I just don't know if I can get close to him."

"Of course you can. It's a mission, Kakashi. You'll be his only lifeline if things get out of hand with Danzou."

Kakashi fell silent and nodded. Ibiki's lower voice caught him squarely.

"You know what I'm thinking." The taller man's eyes regarded him accusingly. "He might kill you, forced to choose between taking you back as a friend and murdering you once and for all."

"Look, Morino, you've misjudged out relationship. He was under the influence of Hidata's Uzingan. What you saw wasn't our usual…"

Tsunade was up and around the desk in a flash, and force of her voice against his ear made him wince. "Were you aware that I saw it, Kakashi? I would hope that you're ashamed of your actions. I would think that you would like to make it up to him somehow."

"I…see." It didn't make sense, if they thought he was abusive, forcing himself on Iruka, why would they push them together again? "But still, you choose me?"

Tsunade eyed him narrowly. "Who else is there? Naruto would try to behave, but it would be far more difficult to get his complicity in this. You, on the other hand, are quite capable of having a relationship with him and throwing him to the wolves at the same time."

Kakashi shook his head. "I do care about Iruka. I have always cared about him. He was damn near impossible to have a relationship with when he was stable and teaching kids. I don't have any idea how to get close to him now."

"Well, you won't know until you try, will you?" Tsunade stared at him, setting her mouth sideways. "I know that this stinks. The situation, Danzou, sending Iruka in blind, forcing the two of you together…it stinks to high heaven. But that information is important. The Uzingan is too dangerous to ignore. Our best chakra-suppression technology can't touch it; we've seen what the results can be if we let it run amok."

"Seen it." Kakashi's eye looked far away, seeing again the chamber of dead shinobi, their remains standing at attention against the dark walls. Remembering the agonized eyes rolling in the face that came into view as the decapitated enemy fell from his line of vision. Or rather, the lack of face. "Yes, we've seen it."

"Fine. Put your brain in gear and figure it out. Iruka needs a back-up and a monitor. You're going to be both." Tsunade settled back into her chair, trying to get comfortable with her decision.

Ibiki heaved a frustrated sigh. "And I'll be monitoring you personally, Hatake. Count on it."

Kakashi gave a slight bow. "Since you're entrusting me with this, know that I plan to succeed by any means possible. I will not disappoint you, Lady Tsunade."

She had a far-away look in her eye. "He's so far afield from the man I once knew. And now we're sending him even further into the abyss." Her gaze sharpened back to take in the copy-nin's eye. "Position yourself wisely, Kakashi. And if you somehow see the opportunity to bring him back to us when the mission is over…take it."

Ignoring Ibiki's skeptical snort, Kakashi nodded solemnly and left the room in a slow, unceremonious walk. His mind was plowing old earth, turning over memories, dredging up all that he knew about Umino Iruka. It bore little resemblance to the faceless warrior now building a legend in cold efficiency.

The last time they'd interacted before Jeninki's attack was not the best note to have left off on. He'd been angry at Iruka, angry and frustrated and fed up and hurt. Iruka was under his skin still. No one irked him more, turned him on more, made him question his superiority more. He couldn't stand him and he couldn't stand to be without him. He treated him badly because of it. And then would regret it and try to make amends. It was a sick interaction between them, as it had always been.

The guilt from his failure to protect and rescue him put an end to it. There was no forgetting or denying his ineptitude, not when his former lover walked around a living, mangled testament to his shortcomings. As far apart as they had ever broken, he had never released himself from the commitment to watch over Iruka constantly and keep him safe. It was his talent after all, the only truly unique thing he had to give. His connection remained unbroken with the chunin through his ability to overcome and protect. The cycle of yearning and spurning was destroyed with that spectacular failure. Kakashi finally did as Iruka had screamed in his face for him to do so many times over the years. He'd finally had the mercy to leave the man alone.

Now this assignment. It was a blow to the shell he'd erected around his pride on the matter. He'd broken himself of his obsession and now…

Visions of his body insinuating itself deeply into the object of his unbridled lust and possessiveness began to revive from the past, and instead of just remembering that he once felt an irresistible pull, he began to experience that pull once more.

If he lost control now, Iruka would kill him before he'd sit still for any of the things Kakashi had pleasured them with in the past.

This was going to be the most difficult and dangerous mission in his career.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Iruka placed a single uniform in his pack, along with his undergarments and field toiletries. The ROOT uniforms would be provided to him. He had no idea what they looked like. He hoped that Sai's bare midriff look was a personal choice and not standard ROOT issue. While he had grown much harder and leaner, and now sported as fine a washboard belly as any jounin's he'd ever seen, he was no teen, and he thought bare stomachs were only attractive on the young. Well, being in ROOT wasn't about looking hot, but it seemed that looking silly would be counter-productive.

He felt Kakashi's approach before he made it up the steps to the front door, and he paused, listening intently. An order from the Hokage, perhaps. Kakashi would only be here on official business, and only if he had been unable to get out of it. Iruka touched a hand to his mask to straighten it.

He moved in darkness to the door, slipping it open as Kakashi stood frozen with his hand prepared to knock. At his sheepish look, Iruka's porcelain-framed eyes narrowed, finding the sight highly suspicious and not at all amusing.

"Iruka."

"What do you want?"

"A word. If I may?"

Iruka folded his arms and stared. "Say your word."

"Eh-heh. Yeah, that's just a figure of speech, of course. I need to talk to you. Mind if I come in?"

"Stay out."

"All right. I just…needed to ask you something. About Naruto."

Iruka's head tipped forward just a hair. "What about him?"

"I'm concerned about him. I was hoping you'd seen him?" Of course, Tsunade had informed him that Naruto was on a confidential mission in Sand for the next three months. It was a safe ruse.

"No." A bare hint of concern colored the clipped speech funneled out the mouth hole of the mask. "Why?"

"Hey, don't worry about it…I just thought maybe you'd seen him. Don't concern yourself, sorry to bother you. I'm on it, I'll figure it out."

Guilt rose up in Iruka's heart. Since Naruto's challenge, he'd only gone to see him twice. Twice in as many years. He'd deserted the young man, really. He didn't even keep close enough tabs to notice he was missing. If Kakashi noticed, it would have to be blatantly obvious.

"Unless you'd like to give me a hand," Kakashi mumbled.

"I…can't. But…"

"Meet me tonight at Ichiraku if you can get away and I'll fill you in, but I really have to go. Uh…good seeing you, Iruka. Take care, eh?" Kakashi turned and left without waiting for a farewell or for the door to close.

Iruka stared at his disappearing back and tamped down the emotion that bubbled up at seeing the silver-haired man. How dare he talk to him as if they were friends.

How dare he presume to be that close.

And the back of his mind whispered sadly, how dare he act so casual, so distant, as if they'd never touched?

He shook his head fiercely and slammed the door. The decision to go ROOT couldn't have come at a more appropriate time.

Eliminating those useless emotions never looked better.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Iruka sat silently as Danzou studied him intently, the old man's unsteady hand waving to make a point.

"You haven't been jounin very long, and you're quite aged for a new jounin. Quite aged. Men your age are usually set in their ways. Not open to new forms of training. I don't know why you're here. This is a waste of my time."

"I'm completely open, Danzou-sama. My situation is not normal."

"Hmph. Tsunade said so, but…show me this face of yours. I don't understand. Mission scars are a point of pride. Why would you cover…" his arrogant tirade stopped.

Iruka knew, of course, that Danzou would insist on seeing his face. He was prepared. He was almost too anxious to get the reveal over with. When he placed his hand on the blue porcelain and released the strap, he lifted his face away and stared boldly back into the old man's eyes. It silenced the room immediately.

Danzo looked slowly over the landscape of his face. Far from being horrified, he was intrigued, and his voice held a tinge of excitement when he said, "I see. Cover that up. Is it recent?"

"No. Three years ago."

"Life-altering, to be sure. You think this was enough? Enough to make you invincible?"

"I am not invincible," he considered before adding, "yet."

A corner of Danzou's mouth turned up. It was the right answer. Three years ago - he knew exactly who this was now. Fate had thrown him a remarkable find. Maybe this was more than just the right man after all.

_tbc_


	11. Chapter 11

_Baby steps into the next phase of the journey..._

**Chapter 11**

Kakashi had never in his life nursed a cold bowl of ramen as long as he had this one. The congealing broth and over-saturated noodles were getting to the point where his little charade of just happening to still be here eating was pretty much shot.

Iruka would come. Iruka would be angry and curious, and he'd use the crutch of an excuse that Naruto's disappearance would provide as justification. Once one of them made the first move, the other always responded. Not that it had ever been a good thing. Not that they shouldn't have been smart enough to resist one another long ago.

It wasn't the conflict that kept them apart. It was the sick possessiveness. Once they were in a committed relationship, Iruka wanted Kakashi to touch no one else, not even a hug, much less mission sex. He had tried desperately to control his insecure jealousy. He simply could not. It was a neurotic obsession. He raged and agonized and worried over it to the point of distraction, and dumped Kakashi for good dozens of times for his wanton ways over mere hugs, practice matches and sharing tents during missions. In the end, Kakashi stopped trying to be humor him. It was pointless. In the end, when Iruka made him angry, he slept with others openly for revenge. That alone was insurmountable.

And Kakashi was far worse in his own way. He wanted to possess Iruka's mind, heart and soul. He wanted the chunin to think of no one else but him. Physical fidelity came naturally to Iruka. But he publicly admired countless others. He had numerous colleagues that he respected and deferred to. You only had to observe him for a short time to witness the many ways that he cared for students and parents and shopkeepers openly. He even sought their opinions on personal matters at times.

Kakashi couldn't stand it. The level of emotional giving that his chunin showered on the clerks that bagged his purchases nearly exceeded Kakashi's comfort zone in emotional connection with this, his most intimate lover. In result his own insecurity was outrageous.

Iruka started out in the relationship with the blinding dedication of a hero-worshipper, and he saw and thought about no one but the copy-nin during those dizzying first days. It was part and parcel of the insanity of falling in love. Iruka's hero worship was the sweetest nectar Kakashi had ever tasted. When they came back down to earth into a more realistic relationship, he developed his own obsession at losing that worship and felt cheated, hungry and betrayed that he had to share a moment of Iruka's attention and goodwill with anyone or anything else.

Within it all they were in a relationship still, outwardly together and reasonably well-matched, further entangling themselves in daily concerns, sharing quarters, libidos and lives. They spent two years clutching at one another while lashing out over the behaviors they desperately wanted from one another but never received; it left them coming apart at the seams. Kakashi moved back to the Hatake Estate in a last-ditch attempt to salvage things before the damage was irreparable.

First one, then the other, tried to make their separation permanent. But when one grew weak and approached the other always acquiesced eventually. With time these periods of truce had become platonic and thorny at best, Kakashi's constant willingness and pressure to continue just the physical relationship taken as a mortal insult by Iruka.

It was hard to hear Iruka's voice and not be overwhelmed. He pictured Iruka and the many people he had continued to interact with so charmingly, and it hardened his heart with cold jealousy. The overwhelming urge to abduct him and keep him chained in a basement, to which only Kakashi had the key , to was all too familiar.

Iruka saw Kakashi through the rimmed vision that was his mask and let his emotions rise for a moment. The slut was there, his thin black sleeveless shirt showing off his lean muscled body. Everyone got to take a turn with the copy-nin. He fucked everyone, hell, probably any thing. Iruka didn't need that kind of shit anymore. He had a lot of guts to ask Iruka to meet him here and then show up dressed like a streetwalker.

Iruka sat, nodding absently to the cook, who smiled in response. Kakashi felt bile rise watching the chunin paying kindly attention to someone else for the millionth time. He wanted to haul him up on the counter and fuck him proper right in front of all of them, let them know he was already getting all the attention he needed. It was an inappropriate thought, he knew that. It didn't stop him from thinking it.

He made the split-second transition from pride-wounded manimal to first rank shinobi and addressed his mission objective with words calculated to set their exchange on mutually tolerable neutral territory.

"I'm sure Naruto would be pleased to see you make this effort. You are far too busy for the social niceties these days."

"Explain." Iruka shook his head at the chef to decline the offered menu. He didn't eat in public, and he didn't eat ramen at all. The feeling of anything wet on his makeshift face, especially something slimy like a stray noodle, disgusted him thoroughly. He tolerated those sorts of things offhandedly when they were unavoidable on missions , but he didn't voluntarily subject himself to it in his off hours, nor did he have the slightest intention of paying for the privilege.

Kakashi fingered his own mask as he studied Iruka's.

"Naruto's gone missing. He didn't leave a note. I'm trying to find him. That wasn't too many words for ya, was it?" Kakashi smirked.

"Asshole."

"Language," warned Kakashi smugly. Already he was in control, all the buttons right there where he left them last. Iruka was as easy to piss off as an elite jounin as he had been as a succulent, sweet little chunin.

He caught himself slipping out of mission mode and reined in the urge to push Iruka into something physical just for the contact. The pale blue of the mask glinted as it turned away quickly.

Bet he's counting to ten, just like he used to.

"So. Anyhow. I've tried the obvious places, yours being one of them, and…no luck."

"And now?"

"Don't know. You got any ideas?"

"That's it? No other clues?"

Two sentences, Kakashi tallied with satisfaction. Already giving up on that one-word in public bullshit.

"Mmm. He trained with Jiraiya in some mighty strange places, but he'd have no reason to go there without reporting his travel to Lady Tsunade, much less the gatemen. Wash, Zoom and Ko say they don't know shit about it."

"He didn't check out?"

"Nope."

"Then why are you sure he left?"

"Where the hell could a guy like that hide in Konoha? Come on, Iruka, be serious. He might be dying somewhere while we're fucking around with this. My first thought, to tell the truth, was that he's been abducted. It's just that I have no proof. It's like, poof, he just disappeared. Just plain gone."

Iruka recognized the 'he might be dying' comment as something engineered to spur him into action. As a ninja, one 'might be dying' at any given time on any given day. You'd only bring it up for motivational purposes. His old teaching manuals had sections specifically devoted to 'inspirational' and 'motivational' exchanges and this was the one so often used it had been widely parodied as pick up lines and excuses for bad behavior. Pretty ham-fisted for a genius. It gave him the inkling of proof to validate the sixth sense tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. This whole thing smelled fishy.

"Take it back to Tsunade. Make it a mission. Why work for free?"

"That's cold hearted, Umino. Damn cold."

"You should hurry. He might be dying, you know." Iruka slid off the stool and ducked out into the street.

Kakashi felt his fish slipping the hook, and quickly followed.

Iruka halted abruptly. "What, am I missing now, too? Or do you have some other phony excuse to bother me with?"

Full, complete sentences. Kakashi hadn't dreamed he would make so much headway so quickly.

"Iruka. You don't have to believe me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to any more…do you? You're at the top of the food chain now. Right below me."

Iruka spun to face him. "What makes you think I'm below you?"

"When you go up against the title-holder, Iruka, you have to win definitively. You can't be just as good, or almost as good. You want my spot on the ladder? You have to take it. You have to beat me."

"Huh. Like I care what your little rule book says."

"We could settle this easily enough. I can reserve the training grounds. Name your time, and we'll go one round every day for a week. Best four out of seven."

"You're insane. I haven't got that kind of time to waste."

"I see. Well, I guess I'll take that answer since it lets you save face while you chicken out. Oh, sorry - save face. What an unfortunate choice of words."

"Don't push me. If I had the time, there's nothing I'd like better than to mop up the training field with your scrawny ass."

"Big talk for such a small chicken. Hey, I have a missing moron to locate, so if you're not up for the challenge, I need to get going."

Before Iruka could snap back, Kakashi's handsigns bamphed him away.

The vein in Iruka's forehead was throbbing as he stared at the puff of smoke. He strongly suspected the copy-nin of flirting, and it enraged him more than the idea that he was lying or trying to goad him into a fight. In his effort to satisfy his own needs, he would twist Iruka around whatever setup suited his fancy. This was a huge mistake on the copy-nin's part, because he would soon find out just how strong and inflexible his former lover had become.

He hated even more that the sight of Kakashi brought back flashes of intimate memories and stray jolts of desire.

He made his own handsigns and appeared in Naruto's apartment, going straight to the footlocker and pulling it open.

The mission equipment was gone, instant validation for the very conclusion he'd leapt to. Naruto wasn't abducted. He wasn't missing, he'd clearly packed for a mission before leaving. Kakashi was lying. Not that it was out of character for the bastard, and not that it was a surprise. But it was a bit of a mystery. Kakashi was up to something more than his usual no good to have gone this far with a total lie, one so easily detected. He supposed he should go to the gatekeepers, not to confirm that Naruto was gone, but to see if they were in on the game, if it was some sort of conspiracy.

But if he knew Kakashi like he thought he did, he wouldn't have to go skulking around to find out what the jounin was up to. The man would be back, with a new angle, weaseling back into the scenery to try and get whatever result he was aiming for.

As irritating as that was, it was going to have to take a back seat for now. He had those demanding katas that Danzou had given him to practice. It was somewhat of a disappointment that he was to return to his own home after training each day. It seemed too pedestrian. He had envisioned an around-the-clock boot camp sort of initiation, something soul-shaking, abrupt and extreme. A trial by fire. Something extraordinary in keeping with the platinum elite status he would earn at the gauntlet's end.

When he asked about the uniform, he was told not to expect one. When and if he earned the right to wear one someday, it would be presented then. He was to ask no more about it.

He turned to leave and caught sight of a familiar scene protruding from beneath a pair of orange pants, thrown haphazardly on the nightstand. Pausing to retrieve and inspect it, the discarded clothing had been partially obscuring a photo of Iruka and Naruto enjoying popsicles at a summer festival, carefully preserved in a plain black frame. He hadn't seen that picture before. Their arms were linked and their heads rested against each other, each holding up their half of the orange popsicle like katana in the air. The smiles they wore were huge, infectious even in 2-D. Iruka caught himself when the corners of his mouth began to stretch up. It didn't hurt his face to smile anymore; it only hurt much further within.

It wasn't his place to identify with that photo. It wasn't even his face. He wasn't that kind, supportive person Naruto needed so badly. He suddenly felt like an intruder. He placed the picture back on the table and buried it with the dirty laundry completely.

He cursed the copy-nin silently for forcing him into all this turmoil at a time when he needed to keep his emotions on a very tight leash. So little had provoked him in so long, Kakashi's timing was just what he would expect - the very worst.

With all possible speed, he flashed away from the apartment and the reminders of what used to fill the gaping holes he had so carefully hidden within.

xxxxxxxxxx

He passed Kakashi just past his apartment when he left the next morning. He ignored the "yo" and the wave completely, walking past without any acknowledgement whatsoever. He let his finely-honed senses linger behind, though, tracking the high-frequency chakra so unique to the copy-nin. The silver-haired jounin didn't follow, the main thing he was suspicious of the moment he laid eyes on him.

He eventually dropped the tendril of caution, turning his attention to the next meeting with Danzou. The old man had more questions than answers, and Iruka was anxious to learn something new, something useful and unique, right away. ROOT shinobi were legendary for their extreme efficiency in the field, and they had secret abilities that were unknown in the ANBU or shinobi rank and file.

Danzou had warned him of several things, and exacted a solemn oath. He was to tell no one, not even his Hokage, of the secrets and methods to be revealed in the course of his training. There were unusual elements, things that he would likely find difficult to submit to, that his instincts would rail against. In order to achieve the level of shinobi that submits to no one, he would have to agree to submit completely to Danzou.

It fired suspicion in his belly immediately. He'd finally left behind a miserable lifetime of being submissive; he'd had a belly-full of it, and even if this step back was needed to fly a mile forward, it stuck in his throat like barbed wire.

He didn't have to do this. He was an A-class jounin without this, and he was fully prepared to whip Kakashi's ass to take his place as number one in the rank and file.

But the lure of being not just better, but a different class of warrior altogether, was a powerful motivator. He would be beyond compare, and without peer. That was the rare prize. To leave the others behind and have a domain all his own. It was the next best thing to actually removing himself from the village.

xxx

Kakashi watched as Iruka froze him out, walking past without any change in stride or stature as he offered his meaningless greeting. There was no need to follow, he knew where the man was heading. His eyes pursued for a while, though, until the lithe body disappeared from view. Iruka's body had changed; he had trimmed and hardened, gaining the lean, steely form nearly interchangeable between the top nin. Yet he couldn't defeat completely nature's mixed blessing of symmetry and angle, and look of his body still stood out from the rest in pure raw sexuality. Kakashi supposed others noticed as well. Iruka no doubt would have stolen his crown as best mission sex partner if he'd been inclined to participate, mask or no.

He wondered what Iruka would do if he pounced, offered up a night of whatever he wanted, provided his body for service. Let the lurker in the mask choose his poison, do as he would. Control was an issue he could use to his advantage. He could have control, perhaps, by relinquishing it. Manipulate the brunette into bed by giving him the reins.

Kakashi had experienced, as far as he knew, every kind of sexual experience there was to be had. He found none of them to be unbearable, although clearly he had preferences, and some things were not much to his liking. But he could submit to any of them that involved the touch of the former academy teacher and find a level of satisfaction with it; of that, he was certain.

It was an option. An approach to keep in his arsenal for later.

It was still early in step one, and he had made a good start at cementing his role as an inconsequential thorn in Iruka's side. For now, he would concentrate on annoying him, challenging him on the training field. Even if the ROOT training suppressed him emotionally, sparring was still a neutral and perfectly normal act for them to engage in. Iruka hadn't taken his head off, or refused to talk. He'd argued. Interacted. This wasn't a lock, but it was looking much more encouraging.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sweat rolled down Iruka's forehead from his hairline, naked without his mask or protector. He had worn that iconic armor since he earned it in his teens, and a slight depression had formed where the constant weight and pressure of the metal plate had rested so comfortably. Even the loss of the layer of skin didn't take away that ridge. Three years of the mask hadn't quite erased it yet.

Danzou was holding that mask. He was swinging it carelessly, letting it slip, catching it just before it hit the floor.

Iruka stood balanced on his heels, arms straight out on both sides, palms up. He wore only a pair of sparring shorts, and his tanned body glistened with sweat. The spot on the wall that he had been assigned to stay focused on was straight ahead.

Each time the mask nearly fell, his peripheral vision tried to lure his eyes away.

"Heels only! Eyes straight!" Danzou barked. "Seven Eight Two Seven Seven."

It was a combination exercise that was nothing short of torture. While rigidly set, he had a series of random five-digit numbers to memorize during the course of Danzou's attempts to distract and unbalance him.

It was an excellent challenge. He could have easily used a meditative state and concentrated chakra to withstand the physical challenge. However, the task of staying alert to hear and memorize the numbers, as well as the effort to retain the full set of information long enough to impart it to back his sensei at the end, prevented him from doing so effectively. He had to stay alert and in the moment, forcing him to experience fully the sensations of his body during this exercise.

His calf muscles had been cramping after the first ten minutes from the odd position of his feet. As painful as that was, his tightening insteps were more ominous. If the arches of his feet cramped up, he might not be able to keep his toes raised to the specified height off of the ground.

He found the method to be brilliant. As a teacher himself, he recognized that this was meant to divide the elements of emotion, logic and physical tolerance .

But he certainly wasn't enjoying it.

Danzou smiled as he formed the handsigns that sent five red scorpions on a journey up his bare left leg, scrabbling to get under the hem up into the shorts.

"Heels only!"

It was better that the wasps had been, but only marginally, only because the numbers were fewer.

Danzou had been interviewing him, getting a bead on his weaknesses. He'd hit a winner with stinging insects and poisonous creatures.

Still, Iruka bore it. With every sting he tolerated, with every minute he held fast, new strength was building in his mind and body. He could bear it. He could bear anything. It was only reality, and it was only pain.

As time progressed, the addition of different and diverse sources of pain, fear and revulsion began to have the opposite of their natural effect. The worse the assault, the less it mattered. Slowly, the sweating stopped. The cramping ceased. By the fourth hour, well into the second wave of fire ants, he could have been a stone carving of a man.

Danzou himself was amazed. This should have taken months of repeated sessions. Where had this inner strength come from, the seeming familiarity with tolerating the intolerable? Surely, as a chunin schoolteacher, his life was had been one of relatively sheltered ease. He'd been jounin such a short period of time. Perhaps a natural talent?

"Enough for one day," Danzou said doubtfully. Here he was, calling the end to it, instead of giving in to his student's screams for mercy. Maybe there was something amiss here. There were some mental deficiencies that caused some to be tolerant of tortures beyond reason.

Iruka did not respond, and that was troubling. Perhaps he'd failed after all.

"Numbers. Recite."

Still staring straight ahead, still rigid, Iruka called off all twelve numbers accurately, in the order given.

"Stand down."

So ordered, Iruka lowered his toes to the ground. Loud cracking and popping in the stiffened joints, audible from across the room, accompanied the descent. His arms lowered to his side, with a final salvo of sharp reports from his neck and shoulders.

"Do you want your mask back?"

It got the first detectable reaction. He suspected that Iruka had forgotten his appearance, and the lack of mask, somewhere around the end of the first hour. Self-awareness was slow to return. That was good, and bad. It would need to be honed. It was desirable to be able to disregard your corporeal and emotional being; it was folly to be unaware of it. Your body was, after all, your most valuable and deadly weapon.

"Your level of immersion is impressive. Tell me, Umino, what was your approach?"

"I tolerated it." His voice was tight and dry, filled with tension, validating his words. "At first I tried to find an angle, some way to withdraw or rise above. But there was none."

"I see. Did you lose touch with your senses? Were you able to suppress the pain?"

"I desensitized far less than I would have predicted. The final pains were as intense as the first. Still are."

"Really? And yet you endured. Fascinating." Danzou toyed the mask on the table beside him, tracing the eyeholes with his index finger. "What training have you had in this area?"

"Standard torture resistance."

Danzou shook his head. "Strip and take your place on the table."

His student laid out for healing, covered in red, oozing welts punctuated with broken stingers, pustules and blisters. Danzou worked over him with chakra, moving with steady efficiency. Once finished with the front, he had Iruka roll over, and sections of damaged skin stuck to the metal surface and peeled from his back. The wounded jounin made no sound and betrayed no change in expression.

Danzou nodded in satisfaction. He offered no painkillers, and used a method that disregarded the discomfort of the subject. The chakra in the room remained even and neutral. The man was fitting in perfectly.

But Iruka seemed barely aware of it.

"Explain to me how you deal with this pain."

"It surprised me, but…after a time…it was not important. At one point, when I thought I couldn't bear it, that's how the pain shifted. It went from being provoking and upsetting to just…information. I felt it like…say…the temperature on my skin. Or…the sensation of wet in my mouth. That kind of feedback, information about the state of my body. The pain was a message. The urgency to do something to stop it just vanished."

"So, truly, you have learned the first and perhaps one of the most difficult lessons of all. Mastery takes time, of course, but…you've achieved your first success rather quickly." The healing completed, the old man's hand traced over every inch of the exposed tan flesh, feeling for imperfections in his work. This jounin had exquisite skin tone and musculature.

He was testing for flinching or tensing as well. His touches found their way into places his subject couldn't very well ignore. He probed everywhere to test for a reaction.

"Turn."

Face up again, Iruka stared at the ceiling as Danzou's hand traveled freely. Tiny, barely perceptible tensing had accompanied all of his explorations when he reached intimate territory. The control was decent enough. The reactions were within the realm of a standard shinobi.

That would have to be improved upon. He made a mental note.

When he slid his grip around that sculpted throat the tensing returned, stronger. Again, normal.

He slid his hand up the curve under the chin to rest his fingertips on the edge of normal flesh. He was curious about more than just the reaction now. What did that strange, matte finish of bare sinew and muscle feel like? His fingers advanced, up over the chin and intruding over the stretched dark red landscape of cheeks and forehead. It wasn't smooth exactly, almost spongy in places.

The anxiety level spiked accordingly. Normal as well, he decided. The body beneath his hand had remained motionless and controlled throughout, with no change in facial expression. The man was indeed fully jounin-level in self-containment.

He stood back then, and experimentally laid the mask on the table at one end of the room, and the clothes on a chair at the other.

"Get dressed. You may re-mask as well."

As he suspected, Iruka went for the mask first.

"You are such an unusual candidate. Tell me, what do you think of me? What feelings do you have for me right now?"

Iruka snugged the strap on the mask and froze for a split-second. Then he considered the question further as he crossed the room to retrieve his clothes.

"Danzou-senpai, I feel gratitude and respect. I think of you as the best mentor I could hope for."

"Mmm. Grateful. How would you show me your gratitude?"

Iruka's head turned slightly. He stepped into his pants, aware of the eyes watching him with burning intensity.

"By working hard and meeting your expectations. By serving under your orders to the best of my ability."

"My orders. You've agreed to them. Anything I say."

"Yes, Danzou-senpai. I am to submit to your commands."

The old man's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to be wrestling with his next words, his next move.

There were so very many possibilities here, it was difficult to know which way to go first.

"And this feels right to you?"

"It feels necessary."

A decent response. "Then sit and enlighten me. Start at the beginning. Tell me about the enemy that took your face. Tell me exactly how this came to be. Leave out no detail, no matter how personal or seemingly insignificant."

Iruka sat carefully, and took a moment to gather his thoughts. While he had replayed every scene from the mission in the prison a million times over and virtually every day since it happened three years ago, he hadn't repeated the tale to anyone. Ever. It had, with the exception of a few of the moments alone with Jeninki, been witnessed by Ibiki and Kakashi. They had filed the accounts with the mission office, and fleshed out the rest verbally with Tsunade. He had not been made to create any report, official or otherwise, on the incident.

Often, when he thought through the events, it played in his head as a narrative in his own words, like a spoken confession. Indeed, as it ran through his brain, he longed to give voice to it, although he never figured out who it was he was so desperate to relay it to. No one he actually knew, he had supposed, he just envisioned the sort of friend or confidante he assumed that most people had.

So it was almost rehearsed, and while he wasn't sure at first, soon the words were rolling off his tongue as if talking nonstop were his passion in life.

Danzou was rapt, asking few questions, listening carefully. Jeninki sounded so very ill mentally. He occasionally asked for details on their interactions where Iruka seemed to hedge. He pinned him to the truth. Jeninki had won him over, heart mind and soul, and had him helplessly by the throat, in spite of being fully insane. The Uzingan had worked perfectly, its owner the fatal flaw.

With meditations designed to exorcise hidden feelings at the organic level as his homework , Iruka left for home, feeling a little lighter. Telling his story was like unloading a burden, a burden he hadn't been aware he could lay down. It might have made him a bit happier, if happy were a state of mind he was allowed. As it was, it removed a measure of tension and for once, he didn't find himself thinking about the incident at all.

Danzou was dedicating so much time and effort, and he dealt with Iruka as a worthy disciple. After spending so long in isolation, trusting no one, the relinquishing of all his defenses to stand nakedly in the control of this one man had been the hardest step of all. Now the hints of true trust and dedication were brewing, slowly shaking off the dust of disuse and reminding him of the positive aspects of those abandoned principles.

Four hours of continous interrogation-grade torture, pain-inclusive healing, invasive pawing at his face and his feelings…with all the special attention that Danzou had given him, it had been one of the best days he could recall in, well…three years.

_tbc_


	12. Chapter 12

_Since this is late just a quick note - thanks for reading & the awesome reviews, and sorry this took so long..._

**Chapter 12**

"You said there was something to report. Just say it!" Tsunade demanded, barely repressing the urge to scream. He was just a worker bee, after all, and she had to be mindful of the comparative strength of her presence. Her long nails bit into her tightly fisted palms with the fury of her restrained demand.

The fidgeting lab tech, the one who drew the short straw and was sent before her to make this disclosure, nearly peed his pants anyway.  
"Well, ah…we were ready, we had everything prepared, and we retrieved the, ah, evidence from the vault. But there's a bit of a problem, you see. I really…I mean, I don't think it just happened, it might have been clear back when they were preserving the evidence…this isn't the lab's responsibility normally…"

"Come on, spit it out! What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Uzingan experiment, Lady." He cringed as he said it and seemed to lose an inch or two in height.

"Oh, no, no. Don't you dare tell me…"

He swallowed hard and just blurted it out. "We pulled the head from the preservative. We had everything prepared, we followed all of the protocols. But there was nothing there to test. The eyes were gone."

"What do you mean, gone?" she growled in increasing volume.

"The head was in pristine condition, other than the neck trauma at the point of separation. But there were no eyes in the sockets. Nothing."

"Son of a…were they removed surgically? By jutsu? Decomposed? What?"

"We're working on that now. Now this is just my unofficial observation, but I didn't see the things you would expect from a surgical removal. They just weren't there."

"Are you saying this isn't recent? How could this have gone unnoticed? You get back in there and get me as many answers as you can! Tell your senior to pull the chain of custody records, get names and times for everyone that ever looked at it. Tell him to get every available soul working on this, I want an answer, and if I don't get it soon, I will come there myself to find out the reason why. Do I make myself clear? Why are you still standing there? Move! _Now_!"

The lab tech scrambled out the door, nearly falling as he stumbled around the corner in his haste to get clear of her furious chakra.

"Get me Ibiki!" she bellowed to Shizune in the foyer. How the hell had this happened right under their noses?

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kakashi repeatedly twirled a kunai on its sharp tip on the end table next to his easy chair, as his slumped form draped itself carelessly over the arm. Each time the weighted weapon clattered and fell he picked it up again, giving it a slightly harder spin, absently watching it twirl, wobble and fall. The sounded echoed slightly in the large room and down the empty hallway, highlighting the excessive amount of living space this estate afforded its single occupant.

He snagged the kunai abruptly mid-spin, gripping it in his fist and stabbing it fiercely into the table top. The wooden top split with a loud report, cleaving the piece clean in two and sending the lamp and mug resting on its surface smashing to the floor.

This mission was for shit. He had too much time to plan and little opportunity to execute any of it. Patience was one of the few natural talents he ran a bit short of. He hauled in a deep breath and let it out with a frustrated huff of sound.

It wasn't like he could push it out of his thoughts during the day, knowing Iruka was somewhere with Danzou. The old one-armed demon was getting his decrepit claws into the last man that should have ever been gifted to him, sent unknowingly like some sacrificial lamb. A sweet lamb that used to reel in ecstasy under his touch, as he possessed that addictive body, making his bid to be the only thing of meaning in that remarkable mind.

Why they couldn't just execute the traitorous fiend to end whatever menace he represented was beyond him. If the Uzingan was a threat the old man perpetuated, it would be one less conspirator behind it. Surely suspicion of collaboration with a mass-murderer would be enough to take that ancient hawk down once and for all.

Iruka had been victimized by it far too much already.

Charging Kakashi with protecting him from it again was bitter medicine. Tying his hands by forcing him to do it covertly was unspeakably frustrating.

The clock was crawling. Another hour before he could station himself in the trees in the courtyard behind the chunin section and watch Iruka to see what his homework was tonight. Since Iruka elevated to jounin he'd given in to the custom of leaving his windows open most of the time, in order to receive the messenger birds for emergency call-ups. It was a requirement of the job. Kakashi had been aware of it for quite some time. Iruka-watching was, after all, a long-time hobby that had been disrupted during the drawn-shades and darkness phase. On rare occasion, usually after a particularly unsettling mission, he came by and stole a harmless look or two. It wasn't a big deal, or even all that much of an invasion of privacy. Window-surfing was a popular pastime for quite a few of the nin; and when the window was open, the mask was always on anyway.

His meeting with Ibiki had been cancelled this afternoon, at least there was that one small blessing. Having Moreno breathing down his neck was an annoyance he could do without.

He tossed the kunai up with a flick of his wrist, spinning it in the air, catching it smoothly and launching it again and again. Watching it spin in the air, something clicked in his head. An inspiration.

He caught and kept it this time and traced it across his thumb in a controlled cut, calling up his lead summon.

"Mood swings?" the pug asked archly, observing the minor destruction.

"Got a big, big one for you, Pak," he said.

The nindog eyed him warily. "This can't be good."

"Hey now. This is serious. It's tough, and a little dangerous. But I know you're capable."

"I'm listening."

"First, you'll have to be able to do this undetected. I'm thinking…jutsu you to flea size? Then…"

"Hold up! I can do stealth, I do not do flea."

"Your stealth would have to be perfect. We're talking ANBU level detection and higher."

"If you're married to that flea idea, call an Aburame. If you want me, I can go full stealth, and I can prove it. I've been practicing."

"We'll test it and see. You'll come with me this evening. If this works, I need you to keep an eye on Umino and tell me everything you can about what's going on with him during the day."

"Ah, Iruka-sensei," the dog said wistfully. He raised an eye in a meaningful look at his leader. Kakashi seemed to wince upon hearing that obsolete name.

"It's just a mission. From Tsunade. A real one. Iruka's training with Danzou, and they both think it's on the level. But really, it's only been arranged so we can try and see what the old man is up to. Iruka's in there blind. I'm supposed to watch him, see what's happening to him and try to keep him safe."

The tone in Kakashi's voice took the urge to needle him right out of the pug's heart. "Sounds easy enough."

"Let's go see if this can work. If it does, I need you to go with him tomorrow and see what's actually happening when he's training."

They trotted out into the cool evening air in the direction of the chunin section. Kakashi suppressed his chakra, his signature aura, and all the seething anxiety to focus on setting up this test. If Pakkun could successfully spy on Iruka at close range just outside his apartment, he should be good enough to tail the man to his training and get some first-hand information on just what they were dealing with.

The tension was still making him sweat in spite of the cool temperature, and from the look Pak shot him, he moved to suppress his scent as well. It had been a long time since he'd been on a mission that bothered him much at all, he'd done it all so many times. Maybe he was just getting old, but whatever the reason, this was extremely hard to keep a handle on.

From the new look on the dog's face, he'd successfully controlled his trace odors. Well, at least that was something.

xxxxxxxx

"Danzou-sama, what has happened to you?" Iruka was blinking, hastily stripping off his mask to widen his visual field.

"Nothing, nothing at all. Katas, now. Demonstrate.

"But your arm…your head…what..?" He went to reach out, wanting to use his hands to check the reality of his vision. He was brushed off abruptly.

"What about them?"

Iruka shook his head hard, staring in disbelief. For a minute, it had seemed that his trainer was disfigured. But now that vision was clearly false, because both arms and hands were moving quite naturally to point him irritably to his place on the mats. The same had been true of the man's face; he looked into two demanding eyes now instead of one.

"Katas. Now."

The stare drew him into silent obedience and he began to execute the first routine. His concentration was still divided, and his performance should have been sub-par. But his body moved as if on its own, leaving his mind to grow more and more aware of his unstable surroundings. He had been sure that when he came into the room he had been greeted by a lone eye; Danzou's other eye and the rest of his forehead were swathed in bandages. Then a dizzying feeling had caused him look down and shake his head hard, and when he brought his head back up the false image was gone - his mentor was perfectly fine. But now it felt like someone else was watching, drilling him with the intensity of their attention.

The next series of movements brought his line of sight up and around in the direction of that odd feeling and he cascaded through the emotions ignited by what he saw.

Jeninki stared with two madly spinning Uzingan eyes. It froze Iruka in mid-move, locked in place with an arm outstretched. His heart raced madly in this all too familiar situation, as if his life were about to be changed brutally yet again.

"I could watch you all day," Hidata sighed, oblivious to his distress.

"It's him?" Danzou asked. "You're certain."

"Absolutely." Jeninki's familiar voice sounded pleased and rather calm.

"To keep…or to take?"

"Well, that's the hard part, isn't it? Tough decision."

"You have time. He's not ready to take yet. He is getting there quickly, though. When he sees through my genjutsu, we'll be close. Very close. He slipped through for a moment, just a little bit ago." Danzou said.

Jeninki stepped forward, nearly touching Iruka's chin. "If I had to decide today, I would keep. I prefer someone taller to take."

"You don't have to do either yet. Be patient just a bit longer."

Jeninki tapped Iruka on the temples to release him. The surroundings grew dark and silent, and with a jolt he came awake from the unsettling dream. His hands were gripping into the mattress, and a dull ache greeted him behind his eyes.

Another crazy dream. It was 2 AM and he knew there would be no going back to sleep after this one.

He would have thought that his dreams would feature the snakes, insects and scorpions, or even the more rudimentary tortures from his training. But instead they were vague, with little action and nonsensical plots. They always seemed to center on the old man himself, and repeatedly Jeninki would be in the dream, too. Nothing ever really happened that was frightening in the classic sense, so he couldn't exactly define them as nightmares; but they made his blood run as cold as any gore-filled vision of horror.

He sat up and half-stretched, restless and wide awake. In bare feet and pajama pants he rose into the chill air of his bedroom and padded out to the larger area of the living room. He began the warm-up for the katas and wished just a bit now for a mirror. It would make the katas easier to perfect; but there another thing his instincts told him he needed it for: his identity. There was a nagging feeling of displacement and a growing uncertainty. He expected to be a stronger self as he labored to extinguish his emotions; to replace the weaknesses within with steely strength and stolid, monolithic singularity of mind. But somehow, instead of becoming a stronger Umino Iruka, his sense of self was becoming vague, and he felt a personal vulnerability and weakness at his very core. He would have to work harder, and confide in Danzou-sensei about this unexpected shortcoming.

His mind was not on his practice as it should be; instead, he turned and twisted his thoughts around the things that refused to let him concentrate in peace. It had gone this far, he would have to see it through now. The doubts that were taking little bites at his resolve were his own pathetic desire to run back to his old, familiar way of life like some frightened child. There was nothing there for him anymore, not really. There was nothing to turn back for, no viable direction but forward. The only thing worse than the idea of going back was the idea of stopping here and now. Half-stripped of his humanity, this was a terrible state to be in. Lost. If he couldn't go forward and make this work, and he couldn't regain the bitter balance of his former existence, he would be lost. His remaining emotions could not ignore the fear and pain of being stuck in this state. His meditations refused to bring him absolution from that; at least, not yet.

He knew his mentor would do him the honor of listening, and he had no doubt that he would be the path to the solution. The more his training progressed, the more his clarity of mind improved when he stood in the powerful presence to receive the lessons for his destiny in ROOT. In the sanctity of the training room there were no doubts and no fears.

He would gladly stay there night and day until his training was complete. It was only after he left and returned to this disjointed part of his existence that he felt the thorny truth: how very much he did not fit in here anymore, and how very deep that cold fear went that he might not complete the metamorphosis into ROOT shinobi.

He abandoned the half-hearted exercise for a seat cross-legged on the floor. Tanned fingers touched his face under the mask in the places where the older man's had been, imagining he was there, showing him interest, spending such effort to advance his skills. He would be stranded if he didn't get Danzou's help; he didn't think he'd ever needed anything more.

x

The bare aura of the ninken outside the apartment window never registered, and Pakkun felt secure that this new mode he'd trained for was perfect for this task. With practice, he had learned how to let his body release from the summon, but keep his sentience in the present. Moving around was still a little tricky, but with no body, his master's chakra was simply not there to be sensed, and his own ethereal bit of life was, as he had suspected, no more provoking then the insects or the birds in the trees. He felt just a bit smug. Kakashi, cloaked to the best of his ability, still had to hang back a good distance in order to spy on his subject undetected.

After Iruka had retired for the night, Pakkun stayed to see if he would be able to do this for several hours. As long as he was undisturbed, it seemed he could maintain this indefinitely. In this state, the relative darkness of the apartment's interior was not an issue - unlike Kakashi, who had to rely heavily on the glow of the nearby streetlamp when he lurked, another one-up the ninken had on him. He even ventured in part-way through the window at one point. The test results were flawless.

It was a little jarring when Kakashi summoned him back to his estate. The silver-haired nin snatched up the little dog in concern when he staggered from merging with his form during his reappearance.

"Pak! You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, leggo already." He shook all over and snorted once his feet were back on the ground. "Hrf!"

"So?"

"He never seemed to sense me while he was sleeping. He never saw me when woke back up. He looked like he had a nightmare, got up and started working out just a little while ago."

"Then this could work. Pakkun, this is really important. We can't have any screw-ups here."

"I don't see how it could go bad. If anything looks off, if I think they're getting suspicious, I just let go and follow my body. It takes effort to stay in this state. The minute I lose concentration, I'm out of there anyway."

"He leaves early in the morning. We'll need to be waiting."

"Are you planning on sleeping until then? Because I am. If you're going to stay up fretting the rest of the night, I'd just as soon go."

"Okay, go rest. I'll bring you back. It's going to be early."

Pakkun puffed away and Kakashi dropped into a chair at his kitchen table, his chin resting heavily in his hands. This was driving him crazy. He'd have to force himself to sleep if he was going to get any. The unrest raged in his head and turned his muscles into hard cables of tension. His usual cool had worn thin.

Nightmares. Well, Iruka certainly had the right to a few of those. Even if he wasn't going through hell right now, which he probably was, he'd been through plenty before for reference.

His chunin used to sleep like a baby, soft and silent in their darkened bedroom. He ought to know, he'd spent many a night looking over that quiet form when he couldn't sleep himself. No matter what Iruka reported the next day in the way of the occasional strange dreams or nightmares, his slumbering body never revealed them. It was as if he knew Kakashi was watching, and he withheld even those hints of his innermost thoughts.

Kakashi himself had to admit that his take on that might have been just a bit over the top.

It was quite a change if Iruka was demonstrably having bad dreams, and totally unheard of for them to wake him. With his ROOT training to suppress his emotions, Kakashi supposed it was the only opportunity for his ravaged psyche to let loose.

He waited without giving sleep a second consideration, daydreaming obsessively about lost souls, heroic rescues, disemboweled enemies, and brunettes, grateful or not, captured safely in his arms.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had not been a good start to Ibiki's day. The urgent message from the Hokage to report to her directly did not prevent him from invading the lab first. Cowering and talking entirely too much, those workers had little of use to say. Hidata's head had been returned to float in the viscous yellow liquid of the preservative after their examination; it was now re-homed in a barrel-shaped heavy glass crock for display. The missing objects of interest had disappeared without a trace from the hollow sockets. No traces of deterioration, implosion or surgical removal - whether self-destructed or stolen, the method had to have been jutsu.

The head was basically useless now, but Ibiki declined to correct them on it. He figured that at some point, when they got tired of looking at it, it would dawn on them that they needed to get rid of it.

He hadn't actually looked at the eyes when he shut them, but he felt for their presence with his hands, and had done so on purpose. The eyes of certain clans were always closely guarded after death, a prime target for hunter nin and clan members who would want to take them back to prevent them from falling into the wrong hands. To look into those eyes without protection was instant death for a variable length of time after the user passed away; their power would begin to wane eventually, and in three years time they would lose all of their life force. Near the end of their power, it was less dangerous to work with them, and thus they determined the timing of the battery of tests and experiments, to learn all they could to defend against them. It would be vital information if their suspicions about Danzou's powers turned out to be valid. If they couldn't be located in time, this avenue to find a weapon against their influence was lost.

The lab had dusted the original container for prints and it was clean; which made sense and proved nothing, all the lab personnel wore stretchy latex gloves, and any thief worth his salt would take at least that much precaution. Ibiki commandeered copies of the ledger the security chief was currently examining, detailing everything and everyone that went in and out of the vault.

x

When he finally entered the Hokage's chamber she waved him to a chair that he didn't take.

"Well? What took you so long?"

"I went to the lab to check on the situation myself. We've got a tight timeframe; in just six to eight more weeks, they were going to be inert. They still will be if they haven't had their longevity enhanced. We've cut it very close, Lady Tsunade." Ibiki looked grim. "If we can't retrieve them in time, the next best thing would be their destruction."

She frowned and slapped the desktop. "We should at least know when this happened by now, if not who took them and how."

"We sealed and preserved the head immediately. No one would have been foolish enough to look at them while they were fresh. I believe they were there when we took the steps to preserve them - I know they were there at that time. But I did not venture a look at them."

"Obviously."

"I have the record here of every access to the vault since that time. The quarterly inventories all show these remains accounted for. Of course, that doesn't speak to the question of whether the eyes were there all along or not. And there are other possibilities besides theft. There could have been a jutsu, a protection that caused the eyes to destruct to prevent them from being analyzed in order to preserve their secrets. It would make sense that a jutsu of that sort would be delayed. You'd want them to be intact as long as they were active enough to destroy anyone who looked at them, if you suspected an enemy had taken them."

"Yes, well…we would have had those secrets. Our lab rats are sharp. They had a battery of new tests and experiments at the ready like you wouldn't believe. If we do manage to get them back I want them taken directly to the lab, and I want no less that two senior jounin stationed to guard them at all times."

"This timing with Danzou - you thought it a suspicious coincidence already. I'm not a big believer in coincidence, I would make a strong inference that if the situation is theft, then he is our thief. Perhaps there's more to it now. I could conduct a covert search of his property."

"Do it. Make sure you're not detected. But if you do find that he has them, bring him directly to me. If he stole them we won't play the game a minute longer, I want him to answer to me right away. If he took them, I'd call it hard evidence that he has access to that power since he doesn't want us to develop a defense against." Tsunade glared out the window at deepening sunset. "What does Kakashi have to report?"

"Nothing. Umino seems to be coming home with katas and meditations, some newly healed wounds, nothing outside of the ordinary for training. I don't like it. It sounds like he knows we're watching." Ibiki stood and followed her gaze out the window. "Danzou's tactical skills are superlative. Trying to get anything past him requires the utmost skill and attention to detail. This property search will be difficult to pull off."

"I'm sure that he realizes that I don't trust him. I led him to believe that Iruka came to him as a reject, a worthless bone I tried to throw his way to shut him up about the ROOT nonsense. That we picked him because of the damage to his face, his age at becoming a jounin, his lack of a place to fit in. He thinks I threw him away because I foolishly didn't see him as having value." Her eyes grew cold with the responsibility of her position as the warm colors of the deepening sky mirrored in them. "He has had Iruka long enough to see him for the tremendous resource that he is. The ass probably thinks he's pulled one over on me, that I was too stupid and conventional to see Iruka for his potential. That sort of superior thinking is his stock and trade. In that regard, the setup was perfect to pander to his ego. And he's playing it back the same way. I'd wager that his training is ungodly, and he's making it appear banal to conceal the fact that Iruka is capable of being a true ROOT shinobi, in the style I believe he feared was no longer possible. He's just hiding his cards. He's still playing our game."

"I may need a diversion in order to do the search. With your permission?"

"Don't blow up anything too expensive."

Ibiki nodded. "I'll forewarn you. I may need to borrow a jounin or two. Most of my ANBU are still doing eliminations to assist Sand."

"Just don't use Kakashi. He needs to lay low so he doesn't draw attention to his task."

"I wouldn't have used him anyway."

"Ibiki…never mind." The torture specialist certainly held a grudge. Tsunade couldn't fathom why an unsavory exchange between two people in a relationship had such an effect on his opinion of Kakashi.

"No. What is it?"

"This thing with Kakashi. Is it all from that one event? It bothers you that much?"

"You make it sound petty and insignificant. Understand that he lied to me about their relationship and his intentions, and then he twisted my words when he told Umino why I allowed him in. He used me and my facility to take advantage of a man held helpless in the official operation of a mission. 'That one event' was my responsibility. I have no excuse for not questioning his motives in the first place, and for letting it go on just to see if Umino would stand up for himself. Between that and our botched retrieval, I'd say we fucked up royally. It still infuriates me how damned proud he was of what he did in that visiting room. I should have gone in there and jerked him out by the throat."

"Ibiki. If you went in there, while things were in progress, made a scene, rescued him…what would that have accomplished? You think he would have felt any better? That things would have turned out all that differently? Why does…unless…is it because Iruka thinks you didn't care? Did you want him to know that your impulse was to protect him?"

"My watch. My man. My orders that put him in that place, restrained in that way. And I just let another man destroy any reason that soldier ever had to trust me as his superior. It might as well have been me in there. I'm a specialist, I know people, I know individual quirks and qualities. I should have known what Kakashi's intentions were. And it was just when I was getting a lock on Umino's unique talents. There was something different there, something rare. And we destroyed it. It's inexcusable. At least I have the substance to regret it." Ibiki could count on one hand with fingers left over how many times another shinobi had beat him at his own game of psychological cat-and-mouse. That defeat would never, ever be excused away. The particulars of the incident and the identity of the victim aside, Kakashi had slapped Ibiki's face and walked away unscathed. So far. Some day, some how, that score would need to be settled.

"Kakashi regrets it, Ibiki. He'll never let you know. But believe me, he regrets a lot of things when it comes to Iruka."

The scarred shinobi was unmoved by her defense of someone so unprincipled. "We should table this for now. I need to concentrate on the logistics of getting into Danzou's and getting a look around."

"On that we can agree. Move on this as soon as possible."

"You could call Umino in, hold him off from reporting for training for a few days in case this blows up."

Tsunade shook her head. "There are too many possibilities to pull the plug on a hunch. There's been no indication that he's in any danger. We stay with the plan for now. We still need that information, now more than ever. The goals haven't changed."

"As you wish."

Ibiki gave a stiff bow and left the room.

As if any of this is what I wish, Tsunade thought bitterly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Iruka was alert as he headed along the familiar street, overcompensating a little to make up for his lack of sleep, using his chakra as usual to make sure he wasn't followed. The sun was ready to crest the hills, highlighting his way with a soft glow; teamed with the crisp chill of the dawn it was an energizing contrast after the gloomy introspection of last night.

Kakashi appeared again, giving him that little wave that he once thought was so cute, and that monosyllabic greeting. Again, Iruka ignored him. But this time, the copy-nin began to move in his direction after he passed.

Iruka moved ahead several paces before he turned and pointed accusingly.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks. Me? the hand to his chest and raised eyebrow questioned. He shrugged, turned, and went the other way.

Iruka kept track of him a little longer this time, making sure he went his own way. The copy-nin was a little bolder today, making that little move. He hadn't been back with more fairy tales about Naruto gone missing or goading him and throwing down physical challenges. He had simply reappeared in the landscape nearly everywhere Iruka went since the day he came knocking at the door, as if the months of pointedly avoiding him had never happened.

He's gotten over the revulsion, Iruka surmised. He must have decided that he could go for a little action in spite of the hideousness, made palatable by the porcelain façade. Training had not reached the point where Iruka could engage in sex purely for the physical benefit of exercising his organs, preventing stagnant fluids and promoting his general health, disregarding the connection with his partner otherwise. He understood that he would get there eventually, and he was quite certain that he would know just how effectively he'd been prepared when his sensei was ready to test him with this activity. His own aversion to it meant simply that he was not yet properly trained. At the point in his development where he could do this without emotion, in an efficient, businesslike fashion, to allow access to his elderly mentor on command, he supposed even Kakashi could be had without discomfort or displeasure.

If the irritation and provocation from just seeing that shock of silver hair was any indication, he wasn't making nearly the progress Danzou had indicated. The copy-nin was still a distraction, an unwelcome one at that. He hurried now, even though he was early, anxious to be sealed away in in the room where his discomforts had meaning and his pain was a clear path to his goal.

Pakkun probably didn't need the assist, but it couldn't hurt, and Kakashi wanted to see Iruka for himself while fronting this bit of misdirection anyway. The blue-masked nin still acknowledged his existence, and that was reassuring in a small way.

x

When Iruka disabled the tags and entered through the sagging wooden gate, Pakkun slipped in undetected as well. Without his body he couldn't track by smell, but having the pony tailed jounin in his line of sight was perfect. He traced along after him, impressing himself with his own ethereal abilities.

The next door was on the face of an old building, and they lost the warm brilliance of the rising morning sun when they entered the doorway into the cold, shadowy realm. Pakkun's instincts began to sharpen with alert at the sense of danger and depravity.

It grew colder and darker the further they moved into the bowels of the building. Iruka seemed to have no qualms. He arrived at a closed, blackened door and knocked twice.

"Reporting. I will enter." No reply came from within. Iruka made signs to release the door and they were in.

The room bombarded the ninken with negative force. Visually, its cavernous interior was sparse and poorly lit, and not unlike one of the interrogation theatres in Ibiki's compound.

But the vibe here was so much darker.

Pakkun's state gave an odd sensitivity to his vision, and this empty room was teeming with slips of moving shadow. They seemed drawn to the quiet shinobi as he stepped into the room. The ninken sensed dozens of presences here, wafting about and reacting slightly to Iruka's every movement; in contrast, Iruka didn't seem to see or react to them at all.

In the back of the room another door opened and Pakkun shied away by floating up to the ceiling. He passed by and through many of the shadow-presences on the way, but they did not disrupt his trip, nor did they seem at all aware of him. So far, his recon was working smoothly.

It was Danzou, shrouded in a daunting yellowed chakra. The pug saw him clearly in several elements. The man's body was old, but his aura was still powerful and it seemed wise to keep a distance from it.

His body was wrapped and cloaked in cloth, concealing an eye and arm that were both missing and present at the same time. It was beyond the pug's ability to understand, so he took in the information as best he could to relay to Kakashi. The effect of all of these visions, on the whole, was to create a room filled with surreal, unhealthy chakra and the pall of some foul activity poised for execution.

His former friend Iruka-sensei was fitting in smoothly with this dismal scene somehow, adjusting on an subconscious level and letting go of the purer end of his chakra's spectrum. Like a chameleon, he adapted almost seamlessly the longer he was in the room. By the time Danzou had settled himself into a chair and began addressing his student, their wavelengths were very close.

On the old man's command, Iruka went through a complex kata and then stood motionless for his next order. Pak saw nothing out of line. The few corrections the man called out were accurate; for the most part, the moves seemed to have been well-practiced and correct. It seemed that Iruka had made an acceptable showing.

Danzou stood and went to the cabinet on the back wall, opening one of the glass doors. His missing arm reached in and came away brandishing a knife of the same indefinable appearance, with a wicked blade that was barbed on one edge and serrated on the other. He crossed the distance to his student fluidly and brought the weapon to Iruka's throat in a sweeping motion, placing the edge on sensitive flesh with unmistakable intent.

Pakkun watched in alarm, on the verge of releasing in order to go get Kakashi. It was impossible to tell if the phantom arm and its weapon were a threat in the physical sense. Iruka was controlled and impassive at the sudden move, but from the movement of his eyes, Pakkun decided he saw the blade and the arm in some form of reality. When his eyes met Danzou's, the missing eye blazed and launched a flood of that yellow force straight into Iruka's eye sockets.

Instead of reacting to the attack, Iruka gave in to it. He began to speak, describing a dream and asking for help with its interpretation. He confessed to weakness of mind and begged for guidance; all the while the elder man's phantom eye sent tendrils of itself out to thrust into what appeared to be a receptive subject.

The true arm came up and roughly tugged at the buckle on the blue mask before snatching it off. The gnarled fingers fisted into the back of the dark hair and pulled, further baring the throat to the blade. He made a slight cut and a dark dribble of blood oozed out to meet the shimmering weapon's edge.

Danzou shook his head. He seemed disappointed. He let go of the hair and took away the blade. He was telling Iruka how far he had to go still. It wasn't about being immune to the fear of being sliced, he was saying. It was about being impervious to it. When the blade's bite no longer drew blood, it would be the sign that they had reached the next level.

Kakashi will think I've gone insane, the pug thought, just taking in without trying to comprehend anymore. This was no training he'd ever heard of before.

Iruka thanked Danzou and leaned into the fingers that traced over the taboo of his face. His gaze followed that touch calmly, taking in the sensations. The gnarled hand was disdainfully smearing blood across his disfigured cheek, to paint his student the evidence of his failure. Pakkun's stomach rolled. How could Konoha possibly justify sending an ally to be damaged so deeply as this?

Both the flesh and phantom hand, now empty, captured the bowed head between them and that vile yellow chakra flashed again. When he removed his hands and turned away, it seemed Iruka was frozen in place, no longer reacting.

The atmosphere grew thicker, and another presence began to enter the room behind Danzou. Pakkun strained to perceive it as best he could. Was it a doppelganger being produced from the old man? It was like the arm and the eye, there and not there, and almost painful to try and bring into focus.

Suddenly the slips of shadow began to dart erratically and swell with energy. The room's rising instability began to disrupt the pug's hold; when the figure that entered the room raised its arms high above its head, the answering rise in energy from the shadows blasted him hard; he barely released from the jounin's dimension in time to avoid being damaged by the seismic disruption of his thought processes.

Whatever or whomever that had been, it was incredibly powerful and dangerous. He had to get these strange observances to Kakashi. He had witnessed it and he still wasn't sure what he had seen; the only thing the knew for sure was that whatever was happening to Iruka-sensei, the man himself still seemed completely willing to submit to it.

He rejoined his body in the dimension of waiting and gathered his will for a self-directed appearance to his master.


	13. Chapter 13

_Oof. Bit of a delay here. Sorry. Straight to it then._

**Chapter 13 **

"You're still going to hide this from him? For how long?"

"Hiding isn't really the right term. If and when he needs to know on a conscious level, he'll know. Until then…he is a citizen of Konoha. If Tsunade orders him returned I would likely comply. The less he is aware of, in that case, the better." Danzou fingered the small, ornate box in front of him reflectively.

"And if they ask for those, now that they've discovered they're gone?" The heavy-set man motioned to the box with a stab of his index finger. "They're all up in arms, you know. Folks from the lab are milling about like their heads are on the block. The old hag has no subtlety about her at all; anyone in a mile's range has heard about this so-called 'confidential' issue."

"That's an entirely different matter. For the time being, they still own Umino. But I won't give them that which doesn't truly belong to them." He sheathed the box back into the leather pouch, slipping the belt it was attached to back around his waist under his robe. "It would truly be a cold day before they find a way to remove this from me."

"It sounds like your new man has been going backwards."

"There's a rebounding of sorts that occurs. It's because he's too old for this. He's doing much better than I expected, but…it will never be a true conversion. I can disassociate him and seal most of his personality, and that's only because I have his complete cooperation. I suppose we'll see then how well that's going to work. It's not like the days when we brought them up from birth. Even Sai was incomplete because he had familial connections before he began training. But it's not a total loss - I'm convinced that he will perform his prime function and do it well. We won't be able to take him as such - but once he's fully localized, I have an enormous amount of work that he can do for me. He isn't terribly powerful, I doubt he'll improve much more at this point - but brute force is not his specialty anyway."

"You can't wait much longer. And now they're likely to be suspicious. They're bound to come here looking."

" I know. But this is the third try, Ugoi. The last time we nearly lost him altogether. Without the right perceptual paths these hosts just aren't able to stand up to the strain, and eventually he ends up hanging half in and half out of this strata. He's got over a hundred half-lives that he's collected that I can't exorcise because his chi still won't let them go. I need to place him in a proper vessel at some point if he's ever to have the sanity as well as the presence to rule."

"You'll never get a Hyuuga, the clan has the main house too well protected and the branch members are sealed. The Uchiha that remain are all erratic to point of being deranged already - I seriously believe that they were never up to the infusion of that bloodline limit into their clan anyway; I think it's the very reason the Hyuugas have resorted to inbreeding. All of the Kahaidas are dead and gone. If there are eye users in Mist I'm not aware of them. Just who do you think would be 'proper?"

"I looked into the Hatake bloodline…the natural occurrence of the trait isn't found anywhere, yet Kakashi has been able to withstand a single eye for quite some time."

"He's old. And I wouldn't say his mental profile is exactly unblemished," the shorter man snorted, running a hand absently through his sparse gray hair.

"Just so. In the end, I haven't found anyone suitable. But we're out of time. So that's why I have to settle for turning Umino into our retrieval agent. First, I'll send him out to get something for now. Then, I'll make our mission his life mission. I'm confident that I can prepare him in such a way that, when I imbed this goal, he will fulfill it regardless- even if Tsunade calls him back. He will always be searching no matter what. It's just a question of whether he's doing it full time for me day and night, or if he's doing it subconsciously while he's out on Konoha's petty errands. He'll comb to the end of all the known lands, and if there's a match to be had, he'll bring them to me."

Danzou looked across the table at his comrade and smiled. "After all these years, you'd think we'd have this village straightened out."

"If this plan succeeds, we may yet have our day in the sun once more." Ugoi gave his ample belly a pat. "One more turn at the reins. We'll show those fools how a real ninja village should be governed."

"Yes. I'll even give them a choice. They can remain loyal to my Konoha…or I'll let them join Jeninki's village!" he grinned.

"You're too much," Ugoi chuckled. His old bones creaked as he rose from the table. "Let me know if you need anything, eh? Anything at all. When you finish with this nin I'd like a look at your work. And I'm very curious to see that business with his face. Always something interesting when you're around, Danz. My snooping around that old bat's tower isn't much by comparison. You make me feel like a lazy old coot."

"That's because you are a lazy old coot. But it makes for a convincing impression when they see you every day sunning yourself and dozing on the bench in the Hokage's courtyard like some addled rest-home refugee. Just keep up the good work. I'll be in touch, Ugoi."

Danzou showed his old co-council to the door. The heavy-set, gray-headed man adjusted from firm balanced stride to unsteady, bow-legged wobble as soon as he grabbed the walker in the entry and started out the door. With a wink he shuffled with great difficulty down from the porch and over the uneven sidewalk to the gate.

Once he was alone again, Danzou returned to the training room to set up the next day's procedure.

Time was closing in and ready or not, his trainee had to be finalized now. He was softened and shredded and very close to having his unique characteristics free-floating in his psyche. The level of disconnection from the shinobi's survivalist instincts had to be enough that when he sealed up all that was adrift, what remained would be nothing but obedient soldier, hardened strength and calculating reason. It wasn't true ROOT, the captured and sealed elements would take a very long time to atrophy and die off completely; for now they would be in more of a long-term paralysis. But the net effect would be the same in the short run.

If only the tanned nin had a stronger chakra system he would have been a suitable vessel for now. But Danzou didn't find his inner gyroscope to be true, and any imbalance would be magnified a thousandfold under the pressure of the procedure. A strong chakra system was vital in the event of logic error or a breakdown in the suppression of the host's emotional energy. At every compromised possession, Jeninki's mind was getting further misdirected. Last time he had run amok for quite some time and gotten himself terminated before Danzou could intervene to get him back on track. The attempt to visit Hidata in jail came a few hours too late and hopefully went unnoticed in the carnival of confusion that followed his escape. The added suspicion should have had them hot on his doorstep when they discovered the eyes had gone missing.

He placed the strapping by the table, mentally ticking off the supplies needed in the order they would be administered. From the cabinet, he fished through a number of vials and found the correct preparation. He decided on oral administration; the effect was just as strong but permeated the body more slowly. He wasn't as young and quick as he once was. This procedure would take a bit of time. The priming chemicals had been taken this afternoon and the effects were dramatic and immediate. He had planned to retain Umino overnight; the solution hit his system hard, as expected. But the man showed remarkable fortitude in putting on a normal façade and leaving on his own power. By morning his system should have stopped fighting the invasive chemical agents and his health would seem normal anyway.

Everything he needed was laid out eventually, except for the one most vital element. With a narrow blank scroll he returned to the room he had just visited his friend in. Once settled with a fresh cup of tea, he lanced his palm with a sharp blade and cupped his hand to hold the fluid.

Dipping the brush in his palm, he worked in peaceful concentration, bold brick-red strokes forming the sealing spell, the loyalty and silence bonds, and the failsafe orders. His characters were not as fluid and artful as they had been when he was younger, even he had to admit it.

But writing with the chakra arm was more and more of a challenge these days. It was almost as difficult to use as the eye. It impressed upon him how important it was to move ahead. If things didn't progress soon, he might not have long to enjoy the new regime before the end of his days.

xxxx

"You really don't make a hell of a lot of sense, Pak. Maybe this thing you do warps your perceptions."

"Look, I know what I saw."

"No you don't. You said yourself…"

"Don't twist my words. I can't put a name to what I saw. Doesn't mean that I didn't see it."

"Eh. We could run it by Tsunade, I guess. I can't think of anybody else that might know about this."

"Tell her, then. I'm almost glad I couldn't go through with it. It's disgusting to watch. I feel filthy through and through."

"I don't know. Shadows and chakra, I might think of some explanations for that but…Danzou's not enchanted, Pak, get real. Admit it. Your spying method has some serious bugs in it. The old man's been missing an arm and worn the wraps on his head since long before I ever laid eyes on him."

"Something was up."

"Maybe he sensed you were there and threw a genjutsu; maybe he was using one on Iruka and it got you too. That's probably it; maybe you were seeing what Iruka was seeing, and also seeing reality. That would make sense. The blood was probably part of the illusion."

"Maybe." Pakkun sighed, a little relieved at the logical explanation. "So it's just a head game."

"Yeah. That must be his method. The thing that gets me, though, is the eye."

"Well, you keep yours covered. Maybe it's the same reason he keeps his covered."

"Exactly. If it's an Uzingan, and he's using it for the training, we ought to be able to expose that somehow. If I could get him face-to-face, I might have a shot at detecting it. A Hyuuga should be able to with no problem."

"For a head game, this is rough stuff. That teacher looks like he's taking a trip in outer space. You're not going to have much left to save if this guy keeps blasting him like that."

"The purpose in sending him in there was to expose Danzou's training methods, no matter how ugly they are. Sending him in blind was Tsunade's idea so he'd be more susceptible. This is his mission. And ours. No options, just orders." None of this was particularly surprising or alarming to Kakashi. It was pretty consistent with Tsunade's suspicion, much like the mission in the prison. Not that being sent to be damaged and endangered was unique to Iruka; most missions sent the shinobi to certain peril. It was just that, although refusal was really not an option, one usually knew all there was to know about what they were getting into. Iruka didn't even know this was a mission this time. It was a disturbing trend, one that had Kakashi not only feeling resentful over the deceptions to this man, but a little suspicious himself now when he thought back on some of his past assignments. One needed to have full trust in their superiors, but not blindly. He wondered if the powers that be had thought the repercussions through on this.

They were interrupted by a dove that landed with a thump on the windowsill, tapped the glass three times and then fluttered away.

"Iruka's home this early?" Kakashi frowned and checked the clock. It was still the afternoon. "He never gets in before dark."

"Maybe it was too much for him. I tell ya, it made my skin crawl. If he bolts or goes crazy and offs that old monster he'd be better off."

"Are you up for one more trip? Go get a look for me and see if you can figure out what's up with his being at home. I need to make contact and this might be a good time for it if he's alone."

Iruka was indeed home; but he seemed to be very ill. That was the unexpected message from Pak. Kakashi made his way to the apartment in a flash and banged on the door to no avail.

He knew better than to just go in. Once upon a time, he made it a personal challenge to see if the trap and seal combination existed that could keep him from getting into Iruka's apartment at will. He strongly suspected that he would be flirting with death if he tried that now. Yet if Iruka was inside too sick to make it to the door…well, he'd be forced to find a way in.

"Umino!" He hammered hard on the wood, purposely obnoxious and loud, suppressing a guilty smile at the sound of something crashing to the floor. Probably that ugly painting Anko had given Iruka back in her art therapy days as a thank-you for his sympathetic shoulder and ear. Kakashi had wanted to burn that thing every time he looked at it.

The latch clicked and he stopped pounding. Cold glassy eyes peered at him through the opening as the door drew open steadily to about a foot.

"Hey! Where the hell have you been? We're supposed to hit the sparring field when you have free time."

"Is that what you thought? Your error." Iruka looked at the foot in the doorway. His head was throbbing and his face was burning, but the mask did have its advantages. His controlled voice revealed nothing. "You don't really think that will work."

"Well, I was hoping," Kakashi said brightly.

"How sad for you."

"Sad? You feel sad for me?"

"Sure. Why not. Whatever you like to think. Just move the foot before I send you away without it."

"Sheesh. So if not today, when do we go at it?"

"We don't."

"I only meant training."

"So did I."

"Come on. You can't be that afraid that I'll put you in your pl…"

"Move!" Iruka snarled and raised a hand, pulsing chakra in a sweeping force into the copy-nin's chest and slamming the door when it shoved him back and away.

Stunned, Kakashi regained his balance quickly enough that he stayed upright. The sudden shot hadn't been telegraphed at all.

Inside, Iruka's shoulders rounded with the weight of his illness and he cast a look at the fallen painting before heading back to drop on the bed and wait for his fever to break. He didn't have the energy for a verbal, mental or emotional sparring match right now, and Kakashi was usually all three rolled into one. He pulled the mask back off and set it on the bedside table, hoping for the dubious relief of dropping into another disorienting stretch of sleep.

Kakashi saw no wound on Iruka's throat, nor did he detect any healing. Genjutsu, then - definitely. One hell of a genjutsu that sucks in a disembodied ninken that the caster of the jutsu is unaware of.

Unless he was aware. That thought was troubling.

xxxxx

Iruka's hand fell away from the bedside table and the mask. Kakashi's appearance was already forgotten in the effort to deal with the poisonous feeling in his veins.

The ceiling was doing slow half-turns to the right. The flu, it was kind of like having the flu, right at the point where the fever is highest. His limbs were heavy and the world was swimming; it felt like his brain was attempting to fight its way out through his eyes and ears.

The training session was a blur. He probably had homework but couldn't remember for sure.

He'd been feeling bad in the training room, and Danzou had given him something for it and sent him home. More weakness, more failure. How did that compute? He'd been successfully withstanding tortures and endurance tests beyond anything he'd ever heard of…how could he be this weak at the same time?

Those questions repeated endlessly without hope of an answer in the crawling discomfort of his mind and body.

When he slept it was in small snatches , permeated with flashes of provoking images. All of his meaningful memories were boiling to the top, immersing him in them without allowing any control to slow or stop them.

It seemed like the fever would never break. But shortly before dawn, the stinging tide began to recede and by his usual rising time Iruka was able to stagger to the shower and get ready for his day. His mind was still cloudy and he was exhausted, but Danzou had ordered him to report no matter what. No sick days in ROOT, apparently.

He took three deep breaths, infused his body with the same control he used to endure the training sessions, and went out the door. To all appearances, he managed to look no different from any other day.

Kakashi's little wave and greeting were ignored as usual. The memory of the previous day's visit popped up unexpectedly; Kakashi had come by looking to train when he was sick. _Idiot_, Iruka thought. _I told him I had no time right now_.

It seemed that the copy-nin was around most days. That was unusual, Kakashi was the premier jounin and went on missions constantly, hauling in lots of revenue for the hidden village. It hadn't occurred to Iruka that he might be recuperating from something and actually be needing to train to get back in shape. Perhaps he would ask the next time the silver-haired shinobi bugged him for a match, instead of just assuming.

As soon as that occurred to him, it brought his rambling thoughts to a halt. The idea that he would befriend Kakashi again stunned him with its unexpected appearance. Where did that soft spot for the heartless bastard suddenly re-emerge from? It must have been the fever, that was it. He was smarter than that now. There was nothing to contemplate where the copy-nin was concerned, period.

Once he had progressed to the wooden gate, the blue-masked jounin's thoughts all returned front and center to this place of metamorphosis. Everything looked just as it had yesterday morning - but something felt different today. As he released the gate and stepped in, a shock went through his chest. A seal had not released completely. He recognized the irrelevant sensation as pain and made the hand signs in a even, deliberate manner to complete the release and then re-apply it after he passed.

Danzou was at the front door waiting, watching his moves with the seal he'd booby-trapped. The shock-trap with its pain had been absorbed as if it were nothing, even though it came as a complete surprise. All of Umino's actions looked to be right. It was time to go forward with the next stage of the plan.

"Come in, we've no time to waste since you left early yesterday."

"I am sorry, Danzou-sama."

"No need. Just hurry along."

Since their meeting on the first day, this was the first time Danzou had come to get him at the door. Of course, yesterday was the first time he had been unable to stay to the end of the day, and that was why he was being greeted and made to rush now.

Or so it seemed.

"Strip down to pants and on the table," Danzou ordered as they entered the room. Iruka began to comply and a hand caught his. "Take this first."

Without hesitation, in spite of the reaction to the last dose this man had given him, Iruka swallowed the yellow liquid down in one gulp and placed the empty cup back in the waiting hand.

His eye twitched at the sight of a bundle of straps on a tray table next to the examining table he was preparing to station himself on. He went to set his shirt on top of them and the old man snatched it away, motioning for him to take his place on the cold steel.

As his flash of realization had warned him, his mentor was shaking out the straps and preparing to secure him with them.

"Danzou-sama, have I done something wro-"

"Silence." Quietly spoken, it was an order nonetheless. "You will not speak unless I direct you to. When I ask you a question you will answer with the truth. Your function is to remain here and follow instructions. Other than that, you are already doing what you will be doing: resting and listening. Understand?"

"Yes." The room was starting to loosen up on its moorings. A touch of fear trickled down his spine when the first strap was cinched. Despair began to deflate his bravery. Panic was rising.

Danzou methodically placed the remaining restraints, mindful of the growing unease. The potions were working properly. This dose was much more effective already, tearing away the careful self-control and conjuring up an emotional maelstrom to the surface. The body on the table was beginning to tremble ever so slightly, he noted with satisfaction. A light sheen of sweat was appearing already.

This was going quickly, almost too quickly. "Breathe deeply." With that, the old man's true and chakra hands dug behind Iruka's head and released the buckle, stealing away the blue mask.

A wrist jerked up against its strap.

"Enough of that. I said be still."

A low growl was eminating from the tanned throat. Perhaps the dose was a little rich. It was going too far too fast.

He would have to intervene before this went past undoing. It was time to drop the false image; the extra effort to maintain it could not be afforded. He removed the wraps from his head and leaned over his student, ignoring the gasp at the sight of his true eye.

Instead of the genjutsu eye, the Uzingan spun to lock in the thoughts of its beholder. Such a wellspring of emotion here, an uniquely large amount. It impressed him a bit than a man could get control as well as this shinobi had when saddled with such a heavy load of ingrained emotion. Had he seen this up front, he probably would have rejected Iruka as a candidate. But, he would have been wrong. This was going to work just fine.

He used his power to restrain and slow the emergence, helping to ease the reactions to seeing the Uzingan as well.

"You are fine. My power will assist you. I am not insane as your former cellmate was. This eye is a difficult power for most to bear; it can drive the recipient quite mad. You yourself would collapse under the pressure, so I cannot give one, much less two, to you. Now that I see into your depths I'm twice as sure of it."

The man continued to quake in distress on the table, but the disobedient movements to get free subsided. The faceless nin could not control his emotions, and that was fine, this condition had been manipulated purposely. But he had to retain control of his actions. Those controls had to remain separate, because to seal any element of movement during this procedure would be disastrous to his performance afterward.

There would be no effective memory of this once he finished. The new and improved Umino would not reveal Danzou's methods, as he had avowed at the beginning of all this. Any old heartfelt loyalties would be sealed away with his 'heart', to wither and die over time. The old politician was growing more curious to see the final result of his work. The things he would ask of Iruka were vital to his plans, so the end result of these efforts were more than just an issue of ego or experimentation.

Danzou forced himself to start, with the reluctance that comes just before immersion into a task of great effort, concentration and difficulty. Iruka was ready. His time for preparing and observing for readiness was far too short, but he couldn't afford to wait. Mindless panic was cresting, the first of the elements he would segment off and seal. He would not need some of the equipment he'd laid out; his subject had been quite sensitive to the evocative powers of the drugs and no torture or shock would be needed to squeeze the festering first elements to the surface.

With hand signs and a touch to the scroll, he worked through panic, revulsion, hatred, anger, fear and greed. A surprising volume of shame and distrust came far earlier in the usual order of these things. Pride and vanity, copious amounts of sadness and loss, lesser elements of cruelty, jealousy and lust, all fell to the sealing with no traces left behind. At each step, the tension and reactivity on the steel table lessened. That is, until he reached the last of the elements. Then, antithetically, resistance increased enormously. He had reached the substantive lifeblood of the subject's emotional soul.

Like a taproot, the deeply imbedded feelings of belonging to family, needing security, and love in its countless facets tended to be the most central to the core of personality and well-being. Yet, as liabilities in the shinobi world, they were also the most forcefully repressed. Iruka had been cranking down continuously on this part of his emotional make-up since his early years, and the difficulty in excavating it was proportional. This was far and away the hardest part. Danzou channeled his energy and awareness into the Uzingan and forced his way in to work in concert with the drugs, with his subject fighting him every step of the way. The lip service and the conscious effort to cooperate up until now was sheer farce at this level. No one yet had given this up without a battle royal; even the infants placed in their care waged a shockingly formidable war to remain intact against this measure.

Without the drugs it would have been impossible. As it was, it took the better part of an hour of all-out attack to finally isolate the last of it. He sealed the final elements away twice, knowing they were the hardest to keep contained, and then cast a paralysis over all the contents of all the seals. It was done. He sorely needed to rest , but a nagging sense of urgency kept him at it. The loyalty bond was no big deal, nearly a standard feature of the vows of membership in both ROOT and ANBU. The glaring exception, that he was applying it from the outside to a shinobi too deeply in shock to know what was happening, was beside the point. He'd already avowed to become ROOT. There was no time for the now-meaningless ceremonies of acceptance associated with that vow.

Now this next step…this was why he had spent so long getting the scroll just right. The specifications for this mission were very detailed. The abductions had certain unique specifications, some of which would require judgment and analysis on Umino's part, without alerting him to the involuntary nature of his assignment. Danzou would imprint the scroll into his subject's subconscious; but it had to be vital, always there to be triggered, not just gathering dust with the grayed, emotion-laundered facts of the shinobi's past. The Uzingan came into play, infusing it with a touch of Danzou's own chakra. As long as he remained alive, the mission particulars would stay active in the background, ready to activate to the forefront under the right conditions.

Then the last orders. As exhausted as the procedure had made him, he nearly skipped it. It took sheer determination, but he managed it in the end. The failsafe order. If the mission were discovered, if something went wrong, whatever the situation - if Konoha discovered Iruka's true mission - he was to terminate himself at all costs, taking as many Fire Country loyals with him as possible. Only a reversal by Danzou would deactivate it. Even if his mentor died, Iruka's failsafe order would remain in effect for some time afterward. In fact, the death of his mentor was the alternate trigger to activate it.

xxxx

"I know you're involved in something right now, Moreno, but you should be aware of this first. Go on, Kakashi. Tell him what you've found out." Tsunade ignored Ibiki's impatient scowl and steepled her fingers to await the reaction to Kakashi's information.

Her primary jounin was doing a good job in the face of these difficult odds. The intel the ninken had gathered meant more to her than Kakashi knew, and would be even more meaningful to Ibiki. It sounded like their time was running out on every front.

As she expected, the words relayed in Kakashi's studied drawl of insolent boredom impacted Ibiki immediately.

Tsunade didn't wait for his response, already aware of the fire it just lit under him. "When are you doing the search?"

"I have everything ready. I'd like to send for the jounin and move on this now."

"Exactly. Who are you utilizing?"

"Puma, Shiranui and Hyuuga."

"Which Hyuuga?"

"Neji."

"Good choices all. Execute your orders now, Ibiki. If you find that you need more jounin, send up an alert. This cannot wait."

With a nod Morino was gone.

Kakashi looked Tsunade in the eye.

"The ends justify the means," he said coldly.

She looked startled as he voiced the rebuke she had been preparing to deliver in her own defense. It irritated her immensely.

"As you've evidenced yourself, many times," she snarled.

"I suppose." Yes, his own methods were often less than moral, upright, or humane. She had him there.

"Look, Kakashi, you're doing a good job on this, and it's far from over. Go get some rest and make sure you're available when Umino leaves Danzou's today. Keep him in your sights. I expect that he will start doing work for that man outside of his compound any day now, and I want to know what those missions are. Just steer clear of Ibiki's operations. Now move out." Tsunade picked up a scroll and began working on it as if he were already gone.

Kakashi gazed at the top of her head for a few more moments until the urge to kick the desk out from under her passed. He teleported away with a sharp report.

_tbc_


	14. Chapter 14

_So slow the update - apologies and thank you again for r & r!_

**Chapter 14**

The shinobi on the metal slab stared at the ceiling quietly. Of course; he was still following the last orders he had received. His body was drenched in sweat, and the whites of his eyes were shot red from the pressures he had experienced from within; but that was just the evidence of what had passed in the last four hours. He was solid and still, calm and ready. When Danzou passed the mask through his field of vision, there was no twitch like before; the intense feelings about it were offline and inaccessible. The old man set it aside. If things had gone as they should, he would now have to instruct Umino to continue to wear it. The emotional need to have his disfigured face covered should no longer manifest itself.

He sat heavily. He should release the bindings and let the man up, but it didn't make much difference to either one of them at the moment, and he was so very tired. If the wail of the alert siren hadn't resonated clear into the isolated room, Danzou might have fallen asleep right there.

Ibiki pounded on the door, having overcome the perimeter security measures. His team had left the telltale signs of forced entry with the splintered wood in the gateway. It was part of the setup and the excuse to evacuate and search the premises. It didn't matter if the old man bought it if they hit pay dirt. But if they came up empty…there had to be some measure of believability to their story.

Danzou called out once he reached the front door, and Ibiki responded in the right codeword. The door opened and the hastily re-wrapped head peered out. "What is the nature of the emergency, Morino-san?" he asked stiffly.

"Escaped prisoner, Danzou-san. We need to search your compound. The trail leads to here and your gate was breached . Step out and Puma will escort you to safety. Is anyone else inside?"

"You know damn well there is, what sort of foolishness is this?" Danzou huffed. "We're in a delicate stage of training, I can't just be taking off or hauling him out of there at a moment's notice." But the protests died when Danzou caught the presence of the Hyuuga in the corner of his lone eye. That was bad news. If the Byakugan fell upon him, the precious items his belt pouch held would be revealed in an instant. Hyuuga Neji was standing at the ready, but his eyes were not activated. Discovery at this point would end it all his plans here and now.

"We only want to assure your safety. I'll send my men in to bring Umino out. Once we recapture the prisoner or sound the all clear, we'll escort you back in." Ibiki was feigning urgency to move the old man now; the goal was to get him out without allowing him a return trip in now, so they could search the premises cold.

Danzou contemplated his options. Going back in was not one of them. That Hyuuga's eye ability could activate at any minute, and he needed to be far away by then.

The damning evidence of the embedded mission scroll had been erased, the blood characters rendered invisible once attached to the assignee. Iruka was sealed and suppressed; they would get nothing from him. No, there was no reason to fight them on this. The only thing at risk was hanging from his belt and the only other secret to be betrayed was wrapped in cloth and a part of his own face. It was time to go.

"You handle this however you see fit. But understand this: I'm going to file a complaint about this with your shill queen Tsunade. Just make damn sure you leave everything the way you found it - including my student. I'm holding you responsible, Morino." With that, Danzou made handsigns and teleported away, leaving Ibiki puzzled and more suspicious. It was with utmost caution that he waved his shinobi in close to consult on how to proceed, given this unusually wide open permission to go forth with their search.

There were few traps past the entry. For men the caliber of this team, they were no more challenging than turning a doorknob. Neji activated the Byakugan and stopped them for a moment. For a place said to be a secret stronghold for rituals and practices unknown to the shinobi mainstream, by and large there was little to detect out of the ordinary…except for one specific area.

He shook his head…the impressions from beyond the black door at the end of the hallway were disturbing and strange. A strong flow of chakra also inhabited that room. He waved them to the door; it showed the signs of having being sealed repeatedly, but at the moment, it was open to access. Genma, as point man, went in first, his senbon poised , silent and ready for anything.

What greeted him was the sight of a man strapped to a steel tilt-table, of the sort autopsies were conducted on. It took only a second to realize who this must be; the sight of the mask nearby on the floor further confirmed it.

It was a blow to Genma to see the true nature of Iruka's injuries. He had not imagined this sort of deformity, only bad scars or such. It struck him at once why the event had so changed his former friend to the point where they no longer spoke. He had refused to try and coax Iruka out from hiding after the incident, in disdain for his vanity at wearing the mask and hiding like a pouting girl too ugly for a prom date. Shizuni's hysterics were too ridiculous to take seriously about his refusal to have a restorative procedure. A real shinobi, like Raidou, stood taller and displayed his real face, scars and all, like a man. Iruka would never learn to act properly if he were coddled for bad behavior or allowed to hide. Genma had been disappointed in his weakness and lack of character.

But this, this image was nearly inhuman. Kakashi had been eye-witness to this, and yet when asked, would tell no one the details. He told them to have the balls to ask the man in question directly or leave it alone. In addition to the flash of guilt and regret at having misjudged and lost a friend, he felt a snap of anger that Hatake had set him up for it. The copy-nin had never corrected him when he spoke of his loss of respect over the vanity of the mask and the reclusiveness. Still orchestrating distance between 'his chunin' and anyone who dared to pass the time with him, long past the day when Iruka was no longer his nor chunin.

No wonder he'd chosen to take a path in the opposite direction. No wonder he'd never gotten over it and never stopped with the mask business.

Neji and Ibiki stepped in at his hand sign for 'all clear'. There was no one else in the room, no visible sign of danger.

Neji reeled back._ There has been an incredible volume of lost life here._He was having difficulty getting through the impressions of half-life filling the room, unseen by the other men. But as soon as he locked on Iruka's chakra the irregularities struck him sharply. He stepped up to the table in a quick, fluid movement. "Something's wrong with him." The Hyuuga took the sight of Iruka's face without much reaction. Yes, it was unfortunate, but he was not shocked or disturbed. Iruka-sensei's hardships were old news. The matter at hand was deeper within.

Genma looked up in alarm at Neji and down at Iruka's calm expression. Ibiki stepped forward as well.

"Iruka. Are you all right?" Ibiki asked.

"Yes." Iruka's voice was even and strong, if oddly incurious at their sudden arrival.

Neji shook his head and concentrated on tracing the bisected chakra throughout the restrained body. A full, vigorous flow of the energy circulated in the unbroken paths, but with their routes slightly altered. And yet…a sizable amount was trapped and strangulated, and situated where no chakra path was meant to be.

"You know where you are? Who I am?"

"This is Danzou-sama's training room. You are Morino Ibiki."

"Why are you strapped down like this?"

Iruka said nothing.

"Umino. I asked you a question. Why the restraints?"

"They restrict movement."

"Of course. But why?"

Silence.

"Answer me, Umino. Why?"

Silence.

"Aren't you going to answer me?"

"No."

"Look, Danzou left. He won't be back for a while. I'm only asking because I'd like to take these straps off, but I don't want to interfere if this disturbs something you were in the middle of. So just tell me why - and I can probably take them off."

"My orders are to remain here. Releasing the straps will not release me. Your interference would make no sense."

"Can I…" Neji reached forward with a hand, hovering over Iruka's chest. Re-channeling a shinobi's chakra to this degree was akin to amputating limbs and switching them. Even if the parts were made functional again in their new locations, they would forever be in the wrong place doing things in an unnatural manner. The feeling would be gut-wrenching and horrible. Yet here was the nin in his altered state, calm and asserting himself clearly. The re-channeled chakra mainstream was working overtime in a very efficient manner.

But the trapped pocket of chakra was a writhing mass of desperation. It was contained in a very tight area and none of it touched the flow of the vital channels. Over time, this mass would fester, weaken and die if it couldn't reconnect.

Knowing the theory of ROOT, it didn't take much imagination to figure out what elements of Iruka's inner being the old hawk was sectioning off for destruction. But this method was as cruel of a means of removing the emotional element from a warrior as there could be. Neji pulled his hand back and regarded Iruka's now silent and motionless form with a sick feeling. Once this disruption followed its natural course, his name would be the only thing left intact. If Danzou christened him with a ROOT identity, they may as well engrave the name of Umino Iruka on the memorial.

Genma turned away and began searching the room with rough, exaggerated slamming of doors and drawers. He'd stumbled on death scenes that hadn't wrenched him as hard as this. What the hell, this was all right with Ibiki? They were just going to leave Iruka like that?

Neji began casting his search again, but he'd already taken in the area and the only things he'd picked up were in this room. The eyes were not here.

"We're taking him with us, right?" Genma demanded, right in Ibiki's face.

His superior hardened and stared with a black ferocity few lived to recall. "No. He's in training. And per your mission parameters, this goes nowhere. You will tell no one. Not even about his true appearance."

Genma scowled as he stood down.

Ibiki knew that he might have some attitude from the special jounin. He should have left him to guard the perimeter instead of Puma. An ANBU would never speak out in this manner.

Neji was rubbing lightly at his temples. "We've struck out."

"What have you come for?" Iruka asked.

"An escaped prisoner," Ibiki answered quickly, in case Genma had some misguided idea to confide in Iruka to alert him about Jeninki's eyes. The subject of handling a conversation with Iruka had not been addressed beforehand. It was clear that he could not be assumed to be on their side where Danzou was concerned.

Genma couldn't think of anything else to do but pick up the mask off of the floor and at least offer it.

Iruka looked at the mask held out in the unsteady hand, then at the aggravated shinobi.

"That is mine. You have my permission to keep it, if that's what you're asking," Iruka said.

"No, I…" Shiranui set the mask back on the floor and backed away.

Ibiki sighed with his eyes closed. Genma was either an idiot or a much closer acquaintance to Iruka than he ever let on. Enough was enough. "Shiranui. Take the perimeter guard. Send Puma in. Now!"

What a fiasco. All they managed to do was piss off Danzou, and possibly alert him to their scrutiny.

Checking the blank scroll and the empty medication vials, Ibiki finished his quick search and beckoned to Neji.

The Hyuuga was still concentrating on something. He broke it off and followed the older man to the door.

"Be well, Iruka-san," Ibiki said as they left. "We must move on with our search."

Silence was the return farewell.

Iruka watched the door close behind them as they left. They came seeking something but it was not true that they sought an escapee. Escapees did not lurk in drawers or cabinets nor wait around while they casually offered to release trainees. This was the sort of information Danzou-sama would need to know. Iruka waited patiently for his mentor's return and the opportunity to advise him of the shinobi's poorly executed attempt at subterfuge.

xxxxxxx

Nothing, the whole mess seemed to be for nothing. Ibiki walked with set jaw and downcast stare. His three men trailed, just as silent, heading for the conference room.

The torture specialist's large shoulders felt heavy with the burden of failing to end this now. Seeing Iruka, strapped down and unmarked, left him more disturbed than he cared to admit. The sight of physical torture would be much more acceptable. The empty vial and the expended scroll gave him all the clues he needed to know about the method being used there. Danzou was deconstructing Umino's mind on an organic level. The effects of that sort of tinkering were not always reversible.

They were right, though. Regardless of that fact that their search had turned up nothing, Ibiki still believed that Danzou was behind the re-emergence of the Uzingan, and the theft of the ones in custody.

There had to be a way to tip his hand.

The small entourage made it way down the narrow hallway to the debriefing room and followed the massive shinobi in to settle at the conference table in restless tension. Ibiki secured the door.

He nodded to Puma.

"Nothing. No one came near, tried to enter, no sign of surveillance or avatars. No messengers. When Danzou-san left, he transported out of the quadrant completely," Puma reported.

"Genma."

"Didn't see anything out of the ordinary except in the training room. There were a number of poisonous scorpions under a deanimation jutsu in the cabinet. There were controlled substances in there as well. I'll make a list for the report. Other than that, I saw what you saw."

"Neji."

"The objective was not there. On the other hand, Iruka-sensei…I'm sorry, I misspoke. Iruka-san is in some danger. His chakra has been bi-directed and there is a pocket that has been unnaturally sectioned off. It can only atrophy and deteriorate in the manner it's been sealed in. The Byakugan does not reveal the nature of this chakra. I have some educated guesses as to what it might be, as you no doubt have. Loyalties, emotional ties, that sort of thing, perhaps. It won't survive unless it's re-channeled back to the main flow. And there's something else."

Genma was staring at Ibiki, watching for any sign that this was convincing him to make a move on Iruka's behalf. If it was, it didn't show on the outside.

"There are traces of half-life everywhere in that training room. I've never felt so many in one place."

"What do you make of it?" Ibiki leaned forward with an intense stare.

"Ah…as far as that goes, I just don't know." Neji shrugged. "It's not at all clear."

"Give me a little more than that. What do you mean by half-lives?"

"Traces of the dead. Something you see with certain jutsu that destroy the body but not the life force in a trained chakra user. I would say a hundred at least, I think many more. But the logistics don't add up. Would he have been able to kill a hundred shinobi right here without our knowledge?

"Shiranui, get that substance list down on paper. This is not good. We're back to square one. Where would he be keeping them?" Ibiki drummed the tabletop in concentration. "Puma. Re-deploy. Sweep the village and see if you can tell where Danzou went. There's an old ROOT mission room by the Southwest guard station. He still holds lodge with the alumni there from time to time. Check the homes of the old co-councils Tsutaka and Fukawa; check Ugoi's room at the elder hostel, too. When you find him, send a messenger and Neji, you'll join him then and see if you can detect anything. Move out now."

"What of Iruka-san?" Neji asked quietly.

"The division of his chakra. Would it facilitate a transplant in any way? Is it possible that he's being prepared to received the eyes?"

Neji's head shook slowly. "If anything, it would make him more unsuitable, more unstable. To receive an eye ability such as the Uzingan, the chakra path needs to be unbroken. Any weakness or deviation would be magnified a thousand fold. With what's been done to him, I don't think he'd even revive afterward if they did the implant."

"So what's the point?" Ibiki frowned. "What value is he to Danzou?"

"Just an assistant, perhaps. Someone sworn to silence to help guard the secret." Neji offered.

"Maybe he's a decoy. Misdirection. Something to make us look here while he does something else over there." Genma frowned. "That's why the extreme fucking up to his chakra. Just making a freak display of him so we'll be distracted."

"Or maybe he really is creating the first man in the new ROOT army. Or all of the above. Who the hell knows." Ibiki watched Genma's list grow as the shinobi quickly transcribed the names of the drugs he'd seen from memory. "We still don't have enough information. We can't call it off yet. You two understand that."

Genma glanced up, then kept writing. It was true. He did understand. Whether or not he liked it was not relevant.

Neji nodded. "You're monitoring the situation."

"It's being monitored." He didn't elaborate, the details were not of any benefit for the two to know. Kakashi and Tsunade would need to be updated with Neji's findings. It sounded like Umino was experiencing the very serious business of making a ROOT soldier of a man, nothing more. The method was one he had never heard of before, but he'd never heard of converting a fully mature adult, either. It seemed logical that something extreme and out of the ordinary would be necessary. With Neji's insight, they probably knew more about the method than Danzou ever wanted them to. But still, it was not nearly enough.

Before long Puma was back, a messenger bird in his hand.

"I terminated the search, Morino-sama," he said regretfully. "I received word and followed up to confirm it. Danzou has already returned to his property; he's repaired the perimeter and re-entered the building. Interestingly enough, I was able to observe him erect a new jutsu barrier anchored with cast iron icons. As soon as he established them, all living presence was masked completely. With the icons activated, you cannot determine if anyone is within the perimeter or not."

"Not unexpected. This was a gamble, that it might cause him to be more cautious and defensive. For now, men, collaborate on the mission report. I want it complete, accurate and agreed upon. You will submit it to me; this goes to Tsunade, not to the mission room, and I'll hand-carry it. Get on it now. Puma, come get me when its done. I'll be in my office."

Ibiki left them then, and took his severe case of "investigator's block" with him. Ideas were just not coming into his head like they usually did. So much depended on his ability to foresee the deadly plans of enemies and turncoats. He flicked on the light and went to sit at his desk, staring bemused at the file cabinets Iruka had perfected for his pleasure years before. He had been able to maintain that precision, once established, and always had a small measure of satisfaction every time one of the drawers opened to reveal the orderly sight.

If that man stood before him, here and now, unrecognizable physically and mentally, what would he have to say? What would a man, after these assignments, what would he say if allowed to speak his mind without fear of reprimand?

Ibiki decided not to dwell on those questions and instead began to meditate on the larger issues at hand.

xxx

"So they didn't release you," Danzou said, bemused at the sight of Iruka exactly where and how he'd left him. "Did they offer?"

"Hai," Iruka said, still gazing at the ceiling. "I told them they were interfering."

"Oh. Well, I can only suppose they enjoyed that reaction."

"Sensei?"

"Never mind. I'm going to release you now."

"They were here on a false mission to find an escaped prisoner. They searched your drawers and cabinets instead. Hyuuga Neji was using the Byakugan to scan the room."

"Why, excellent, Iruka-kun. Excellent. Volunteering this report to me is most helpful. Do you know what they were really looking for?"

"No. They said they did not find what they sought. They were greatly disappointed."

"Ah. Well, how unfortunate for them. They want my secrets, Iruka. You know how your training is a secret. They would have that method for themselves. We can't have that, can we? They aren't responsible enough to have someone's life laid bare in their hands. They couldn't resist doing more harm than good. You know that first-hand, don't you, soldier? They made inexcusable mistakes as your overlords in the past. Where a more direct, logical method might have worked, they're forever resorting to base spy techniques, infiltration and seduction and deceit. Such amateurs. I'm sure that you fully understand now why we keep our own company and tell them nothing?"

"Yes, Danzou-sama."

"There. Get up now, do some stretches. How do you feel?"

"I am quite well."

"I have your first ROOT mission for you. And a name. And that uniform you used to crave. Although, you probably don't think it's all that important now. There's a mask, but it's only a half-mask. You would be easily identified no matter what at this point, since ROOT is a force of one at the moment."

He went to the cabinet and fetched the sealed scrolls. No sign of tampering; those shinobi had been around the game long enough to know that trying to break into a man's sealed scrolls was not only dangerous, but practically a declaration of war.

"This scroll has your armor, the helmet, and the half-mask. The other has your mission. Perhaps you can use a silk kerchief, like your old associate Hatake, for the lower half under the mask."

"If you direct me to, I shall."

"I do. The lower half of your face is so distinctive anyone will know it's you otherwise. Likely, even nin from other villages have heard of your disfigurement. The blue mask is your common countenance, so that won't do in uniform. You're as distinctive as Hatake in your own way, either way. You'll be in their bingo books soon enough, if you aren't already. Once the next ROOT shinobi is trained, I'll have decide whether to lengthen the mask to blend you in. I might let this be. I might let the world know who has bested them this time. We shall see."

"Your ROOT name will be Even. It is a simple word of innocuous meaning. It merely identifies you to me. You will receive other names for other missions, names you will reveal to clients and other shinobi. But here, from here on out, there is no more Umino Iruka. There is only Even, who will go by many names before his service is through. For your first mission, your public name will be Tai. Public names will be short, three or four letters, and they will be common names you will have heard before. You will respond with the name Tai when asked your name by anyone, anyone but me. You will not respond to Umino Iruka while in ROOT gear. When asked if you are he, the response is no."

Iruka nodded.

"Even. Take your mission scroll and absorb its contents. Remember one thing: alive. You must try to bring the subject of this mission back alive, with as little physical damage as is possible."We'll do a test dress-out to be sure your uniform fits properly. Afterward, redress in your old clothes and return to your home and secure it for the duration. You will not be returning there for many months, if at all. You will depart in the pre-dawn, tomorrow."

"Hai."

"You're a very lucky man to have this new life at your age. You must make every effort to excel. Most men have but one long, slowly eroding existence. But you are reborn in the very midst of yours, and your arc now is upward. You have no endurance test to save up energy for - this is it. You must expend your full energy and life force into every mission you set upon. There is no long stretch to pace yourself for. This, from now on, is a sprint, so you must go all-out in every case. There is no end to any mission until you have achieved victory. To fail is to concede your life in the process. Am I clear, Even? Do you find yourself thinking in these ways already, as you have been trained?"

"It is clear. My dedication is to the death. My focus is my mission. My only allegiance is to you, master of ROOT. I exist as the instrument with which the vital functions of this faction are made into reality. My past is now all forfeit."

"Yes, just so. If you live it half so well as you speak it, all is as it should be." This shinobi was giving all the right answers, showing all the right attitudes. It seemed that the training, though rushed, had been an unqualified success.

Iruka, reading the name "Even" on the seal, broke open the scroll and began to take in the details of his assignment. It was a challenging mix of brute force, deftness and stealth that would be fully worthy of his new skills.

It was time to suit up and complete his rebirth. It began with the placement of the hard black ROOT body armor. The armor was placketed on burnished, blood-red over black leather body pieces and fit like a glove. Then he slipped on the dark mask after tying the black silk over his mouth. The outfit was flexible, protective, supportive. It presented a strong image the revealed nothing uniquely identifiable about the body underneath. In every way now, he was a new image, something never before seen. Danzou had designed the updated uniform with a completely new look and this was the prototype.

As soon as they agreed that the fit was acceptable, he removed it as ordered and returned to his old shinobi greens without hesitation. While Iruka would have proudly enjoyed seeing himself in the elite garb, and been reluctant to remove it, Even had no such vanity. There was but one thing that was meaningful to him now: his orders.

Danzou watched him leave without either of them saying a word. Having received his directions, Even carried them out without needless comment. He did not have to say goodbye or advise Danzou that he was leaving, and would be back. Those were givens per the orders.

For a split-second, Danzou had forgotten. He called out quickly, just as Even had a hand on the door.

"Your mask!" He bustled up after the bare-faced nin. "You need to continue to wear this mask when you are not in ROOT uniform."

Even nodded and took the shiny porcelain obediently, affixing it in a quick, smooth move. He turned and continued his way out the door, to go and tend to sealing away his small apartment for the duration.

Danzou shook his head and smiled to himself. No one else would likely ever know of his joke, but he didn't need to share it to enjoy it. 'Even' was a decent name, if a bit random, after all. In truth, he came up with it as the opposite to his first choice of name, the one he'd rejected because it sounded a bit silly - although "Odd" really would have been far more descriptive.

_tbc_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

As soon as the pigeon tapped, Kakashi flashed to the vicinity of Iruka's apartment. He was on double alert since learning that Ibiki's team had disrupted the sanctity of the training room earlier today.

From the angle and distance to the next rooftop, his view was quite limited. Iruka was home, all right. He was diligently emptying his refrigerator completely. Kakashi recognized that ritual. Long away mission, so perishables must go now.

The fridge was unplugged and even the open jarred condiments were going into the trash. Okay, that meant a really long mission, six weeks or more.

He didn't dare miss the departure for this one. A ROOT shinobi should be quite a challenge to track, even for an experienced jounin and former ANBU. He went back to his own apartment and quickly prepared himself for travel, summoning Pakkun hastily.

"You need to listen close, Pak, and tell Tsunade what's happening."

Pakkun grumbled. "You hauled me up just for this? What good are those damned rats with wings if you don't use 'em as messengers?"

"Knock it off. I have no time to argue and no time to write this down; so you're elected, now listen up close." Kakashi continued to pull out mission equipment, explaining without looking at his ninken. He trusted the dog to be attentive regardless of his complaints. " Iruka's getting ready to deploy, he's doing a dump and disconnect in his kitchen right now, and I need to be ready to move out. No idea where or what the mission is. If he doesn't go right away I'll be staking him out around town. When he goes I'm his tail, and it looks to be a long one. Got it?"

"Hmph." Pakkun gave him a look of cranky concession. "I'll handle it."

"Attaboy." Kakashi was stuffing the roll-up holster with mildly toxic darts and poisoned senbon.

"Looks serious."

"No telling, so I'm going prepared."

"Hey, uh, Kakashi," Pakkun gruffed. "Watch out, huh? That stuff with Iruka-sensei…guy's pretty goofed up, what with all that weird training. Don't turn your back on him, is what I'm saying. A guy like Danzou, he probably teaches his nin to eat their young. Seriously."

Kakashi's short laugh was tense but sincere. "You always have my back, don't you? Thanks Pak. I was aware. I'll be careful."

"You know where to find me if you need me. Just…you know…next time? Make sure you really need me. Sayonara." With that, Pakkun took the partially-opened window as his exit way and jumped out effortlessly.

"I get it, Pak," Kakashi smiled to himself as he finished refreshing the antidotes in his utility vest. Most of his mission gear was already in ready-to-go condition, he gave himself a small kick for being lax and not refreshing his poisons array after the last time he used them. Still, it only took a few minutes, and he was able to dress out and be travel-ready in very little time.

It wasn't long before he returned to go back on watch.

Iruka was finishing up, it appeared. That had been quick - he was hauling the trash bag outside already. Then, to Kakashi's mild surprise, as soon as he set out the trash, he sealed up the whole apartment and began setting tags on the windows and doors.

It seemed a bit odd. Iruka didn't have his mission vest, nor his leg pouch, or a number of the things no shinobi leaves for a mission without. Maybe he wasn't going on a mission - just not coming back here for a long time? Or was his mission equipment stowed elsewhere now?

Iruka sensed Kakashi as he threw the final seal on the last window. He'd actually caught a hint of it earlier, but now it was confirmed.

When he teleported next to the silver-haired nin, the old Iruka would have been very amused at catching him so embarrassingly red-handed.

Even was merely asserting his right to know why he was being watched.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Aw, Ru - caught me, eh?" Kakashi smiled disarmingly. "You know how I love to watch."

"No more. I'm not your entertainment. I have work to do."

"If it's any consolation, you weren't being very entertaining." Well, at least so far, Iruka mistook his attempts to get close for his usual capricious interest. "Anything I can help with?"

"No. I would ask you to stop observing me and occupy yourself elsewhere."

"Or else?"

"I will report you to your superiors."

Ooh - was that just a bit fiesty? Kakashi wore a smarmy smile as he replied, "Report away. Not a problem. But hey - I'll make you a deal. Quit hiding and train with me, and I won't have to bug you. We need to square off now that you're such a hot shot. I never could spar with you before - I'd have laid you out in a heartbeat. We should go at it now. You've never really seen what I've got. I think you'd have a whole new respect for me."

Brown eyes regarded him coldly through the pastel mask. "Respect…for you? I don't foresee holding you in respect over mere battle prowess. But I have no reason not to exercise my abilities on the sparring grounds. Your reputation leads me to believe that you'd be a worthy opponent. This is doable. I will contact you when my schedule warrants."

"Great." Wow. The old animosity just didn't seem to be there. That cool, capable attitude was a little mysterious…and the door was open just a bit more. Iruka was pretty good at this ROOT act already.

Iruka didn't seem emotionally void to Kakashi. Ibiki's report seemed exaggerated. He hadn't believed a word of it.

"In any case, I must go. Do not follow me."

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Kakashi smiled with his visible eye closing into a happy crescent. To illustrate his sincerity, he turned and hopped off the roof to the next, turning back to look. Iruka stood unmoved, watching. "You can follow me back to my place, though. I can make it worth your while."

Not really expecting a reply, he moved on again, lofting easily from the roof and continuing away. Had Iruka followed, he would have seen that Kakashi was taking a circuitous route to head for Danzou's. No way was Iruka ready to leave the village, unequipped and in such light clothing. The copy-nin's plan: to station himself in one of the tall pines to apply a concealment jutsu and await. It was one of the benefits of knowing where his prey was heading.

Even watched the silver hair disappear, making sure he didn't double back. Then he finished re-checking the security on his apartment and left, walking in a brisk but conservative, non-chakra enhanced way to conserve energy for his mission.

His former self would have been so excited this pace would have driven him mad. But not only was Even not given to such lack of control, he did not remember how it felt.

Kakashi had to hand it to Iruka. Over the years, the copy-nin had developed a number of ways to outsmart and sneak up on this man. It was his favorite hobby for a while.

But his mission target had advanced in ability to the point where rudimentary concealments were no longer effective; that was embarrassingly clear now that he'd been caught spying. That meant that the sharingan user would need to resort to advanced jutsu to completely mask his presence. He could be sure it would succeed but it did use some, although not much, chakra to bend the light around his body for the concealment. It was an advanced survival method. He couldn't keep it up for long time without beginning to make a bit of a drain on his stores of energy.

So he was glad that it was only a brief period of lying in wait before the blue-masked nin passed by his place in the shadows with a view of Danzou's courtyard gate.

Once Iruka went in, his presence was muddied, then disappeared. There was a stealth field cast on the perimeter; that worked fine for Kakashi, since it seemed to be blocking both sides of the delineation. He dropped his cover and descended to the ground. Set to wait, he leaned into the dark wall and melted into the shadow, arms crossed and at ease. No telling how long it would be before Iruka emerged.

"You're back. Any problems?"

"No, Danzou-sama. Everything is secured."

"See anyone while you were out?"

"Hatake Kakashi. He requested a sparring match. I said I would get back to him."

"Kakashi, hm? Is that unusual for him?"

"No. He asks often. He is not easily deterred."

"I see. Well, you shouldn't be gone on this mission for long. And when you complete it, you will begin your residency here." Danzou looked at him for a moment. "I've been thinking about all the ways your staying here will be an advantage. I've been alone here for a very long time. Mostly because I prefer it. But I think that you will be a welcome addition. Sometimes…in the oddest hours…I do rethink my total isolation."

The mask glinted in silence.

"Well. Be that as it may…time for you to go." Danzou reached up and carefully removed the mask, regarding the topography beneath. "You know…we may restore your face. It would resolve the issue of anonymity with the half-mask."

"As you wish, Danzou-sama."

"As I wish. Yes, I think I do wish. And actually, if your mission is successful, it will be no trouble at all." He kept the blue mask and waved the dark-haired nin away. "Prepare. Go. We've wasted too much time already."

xxxx

Impressive. Im-fucking-pressive. Kakashi was torn between being jealous of the ROOT armor, and totally taken with the way it looked on Iruka. After re-thinking his stakeout, he had moved a great distance away to observe the compound from a high vantage point. When Iruka appeared outside the gate he felt the familiar tickle of excitement that accompanied the start of a mission that challenged his skills significantly.

He lowered the field scope and began to parallel his target's direction of travel, a good two hundred yards away.

Iruka did not check out through the gate but instead bailed out over the wall. Kakashi did the same, satisfied now that this was the mission and they were on their way.

xxxxx

Even had the rogue nin by the throat and plunged the needle into his neck, delivering the dose of paralytic. As the man went limp, he had to drop him to spin and face his teammate.

The other nin was huge, covered in scars and missing a thumb. He was quick in spite of his size, and his first kick-spin came very close to connecting.

A third shinobi with the Sound emblem scratched through on his hitai-ate circled up from behind, flinging three-sided weapons that spiraled dangerously close.

Even made a calculated move, dropping and grabbing his opponent by the knees. Turning just right to force the other nin to remain upright, he felt more than saw the blades as they spun into the rogue nin's chest and out the other side. That friendly fire made short work of the huge shinobi. Even released the mortally injured nin without ever looking at him, his driving boots launching him so hard and fast that his kunai was sunk to the hilt in the third nin's eye socket before the second nin's body hit the ground.

He followed through with a quick extraction of the blade followed by a dozen staccato impacts, nailing both lungs and the heart multiple times, unencumbered since his enemy's hands were occupied clutching at the ruined eye in agony.

That man fell as well, ignored after the last thrust of the weapon. Even bent and quickly sliced most of the material off on one pant leg belonging to the nearly-gutted second nin. He used it to wipe his weapon clean as he approached his captive.

His target's eyes never left him the entire time. His major muscles paralyzed by the drug, he could only watch in fury at the defeat of his comrades, and wait in dread for what might be in store for him.

Even paused and sifted through the surroundings with his senses and found the sole unidentified source of chakra up high and far away. It was different from these men, slightly familiar, as if it might be Leaf, but it was too far away to analyze. It was not possible to determine if it was a passing messenger of Konoha or someone interested in his activities. No others seemed to be around. Like keeping a finger on a pulse, he left a part of his awareness fixed on that chakra to make sure there would be no more surprises. This was only supposed to be a team of two, but the third man had not presented any problem. And the nin with the silver emblems in his pierced palms was easy to identify as his target; the other two had no such adornments.

He bound the temporarily helpless shinobi, ignoring the distressed look as he slipped a black leather hood over the man's head to render him blind and muffle his hearing. He slung him upside down over his back with his knees bent to hook over one shoulder, using a heavy strap to secure his ankles. That strap then attached to Even's uniform at a turnbuckle located high on his waist. Bound in this way, the load was distributed reasonably well for travel, Even's hands were free, and with a quick flick of the buckle he could release and drop his prisoner if serious fighting called for him to be unencumbered. The bound, inverted nin would be uncomfortable from the abuse to his knee joints to say the least. The likelihood that the repeated jarring of their travel would loosen and leak out his stomach contents was addressed by leaving the mouth portion of the leather sensory deprivation hood unlaced. It was an ugly efficiency indeed.

Kakashi was watching in numb silence. He dropped the field glasses for a moment, shaking his head. He'd seen men abducted this way by Mist nin, but no self-respecting Konoha shinobi would do this. They would leave this kind of degrading treatment up to Ibiki. Once a man was helpless, incapacitated, and thoroughly defeated, this was a kind of disrespect that said more about the moral fiber of the victorious shinobi than it said about the crimes of the prisoner.

He gave Ibiki's team's assessment of Iruka's training new respect, because this was not like Iruka, period.

The prisoner was secured, and the remains of his fellow rogue nin were starting to form shadows in the newly-lit fire as the bodies were starting to burn. Even had stripped the corpses of their weaponry and supplies before setting them ablaze, equipping himself again from the dead men's inventory. Once his utilities were refilled, he simply shot up to the forest canopy and started his return trip to Konoha. He detected the distance chakra as it began to move as well. This would have to be addressed if it continued too close to the terminus of his mission. He was to deliver his prisoner to Danzou in secrecy, teleporting in from the old council chamber.

Kakashi was impressed with Iruka's speed. He was holding nothing back. His mission obviously included abduction and retrieval of the Sound nin alive. The usual aim of a live abduction was for intelligence gathering. But in this case, the possibility that they simply needed a human host for the Uzingan eyes seemed the more likely scenario - and he was now convinced that Danzou was behind their disappearance. This made little sense, other that in that context.

In light of that conviction, it would be Kakashi's job to make sure that the body was no longer suitable for that use by the time it reached its destination.

If Iruka had not been handicapped with his load, no way could the copy-nin have pulled ahead of him. But he managed to equal, then pull ahead and angle into the sprinter's path. He knew Iruka would detect him before the actual confrontation. It couldn't be helped. In order to lead at this pace, the chakra for diversion or concealment could not be spared.

Of course, he couldn't reveal that he knew who this was.

"Halt there!" Kakashi demanded, his splayed fingers shooting snare wires to slow the dark-armored figure. "Identify yourself! This is Fire Country, by what right do you pass?"

Hatake's appearance was no surprise; Even slid to a controlled stop. "Stand down. I'm no enemy of Leaf."

"Prove it. Who's your prisoner?"

"Rogue. Rogue Sound, at that."

"Where are you taking him?"

"To face charges. Now stand away."

"Sorry. I need more than that."

"Well, you'll not get it."

Kakashi moved to block Iruka's path to leap away. He saw immediately the shift to battle stance. He shoved back his hitai-ate and watched carefully for the next move. It wasn't what he expected, but it was quite fortuitous in his intent. Iruka's next move was to jerk on the release to the strap, and dump his prisoner unceremoniously in a heap head-first on the ground. He gave a slight shake, like a wet dog, loosening his unburdened body for the first attack.

With a silent apology to the helpless man on the ground for failing to honor unwritten codes of conduct , Kakashi dodged and faked to draw Iruka forward away from his prize. As soon as the armored figure launched the first attack, Kakashi made his purposeful wild assault with the tag, letting it fly hard attached to a small, sharp kunai.

It hit the downed man square in the front of the leather mask and detonated with a heavy, wet splattering of human bone fragments, blood and brains. To Kakashi's credit, Iruka never suspected the his true aim in staging the fight until it was too late.

Iruka slid to a halt, ending the confrontation so suddenly it was almost comical. Kakashi stood back, arms up, as if to launch another assault. But Iruka was not covering up at all.

"You meant to do that," he said flatly.

Kakashi stopped as well. "It's a warning. Whoever you are, if you think you can come into this area unidentified and just keep on waltzing through, you're wrong."

The sharp toe of Even's boot probed the nearly headless body. Mission fail. He bent down as he freed a medium-length blade from his leather waist utility. With a swipe he severed a hand, making sure the piercing was intact in the palm. Now that he had evidence of the result of this altercation, there was nothing more to be done.

"You killed it. You burn it." With that, Even turned and displayed his true unburdened speed, flashing away in a split-second.

The copy-nin incinerated the body with a set of quick handsigns and followed from a distance again, this time far enough back to be certain that he escaped detection. He wondered what Danzou would make of his interference in the mission. If the intelligence they had on the eyes was reliable, this delay should have placed the old man in a very tight spot if he hoped to keep the Uzingan alive.

xxxxxxx


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"This is not the way to begin your career. This is a failure of devastating proportions. I needed that man. Everything is complicated further now." Danzou flung the severed hand back into Even's face. The nin's swift reflexes enabled him to intercept the thrown object easily. "Prepare that to send to the verification board. I want the bounty at least."

A moment of silence passed. The dark-armored shinobi began to turn away to take the hand and prepare it as ordered.

"Do you understand what the worth of a ninja in my command is, Even?" Danzou asked sharply, freezing his subordinate in his tracks. He had regained his composure and clasped his hands together in weary, tested patience. "Obviously, this is something I did not convey sufficiently in your training, so let me educate you further. There is but one worth. One value, above all. It is performance. You are not what your bloodline lends to the rich pantheon of the village; you are not the keeper of morality, nor the nurturer of the young; you are not the protector of the weak. There are others assigned to cover those incidentals. You are a shinobi of ROOT now. For you there is only performance of duty. If you cannot perform, then cease to exist. Do I make myself clear? By your own hand. Not," he added with a re-emerging snarl of anger, "not by bringing me a hand that proves nothing but failure!"

Even nodded. "I had the subject secured and was returning with him when Hatake Kakashi detained me at the perimeter. When…"

"No. Stop. Shut up. I have no interest in your excuses. If I wanted a report, I'd have asked for it." Danzou shook his head in disgust. "Go prepare the hand for submission. I have to take over the situation now. Disgraceful."

His single, gnarled hand made a sign that caused a fat, speckled grey pigeon to appear in his palm. He took it to the transom and set it on its usual way.

"When you've finished, come stand by. I have sent for someone who's interested in meeting you. When he arrives, do as I say and volunteer nothing. You will only answer if I direct you to."

Danzou felt a bit of déjà vu as he was reminded of his frustrations of the past - the biggest drawback with making the ROOT shinobi so unaffected by pain and devoid of emotion was that it was nearly impossible to punish them.

After a good hour had passed, the expected visitor finally made his way to the door.

"Ugoi, come in," Danzou said warmly. "You wanted to meet Even…he's returned from his mission now. Even!"

"Eh," the old man grunted as he waddled across the threshold. "You didn't haul me over here for that! Get to the point, man. Did he bring back the right one? Let's see the prisoner. There's no time to lose."

"Well, you see, Ugoi, that's the thing," Danzou smiled humorlessly as he closed and locked the door. His voice grew cold. "Even was unable to complete his mission."

From the shadows, Even seemed to materialize as he stepped into the lighted center of the entry. He had removed the masks, but was still in the full armor that was lightly splattered with bits of brain and bone.

"Why, that worthless…wait. Why did you roust me out just for this? What's the rush to tell me something like that?" Ugoi was staring openly at Even's face, suddenly growing nervous.

Danzou made a hand signal, and Even moved immediately, taking the old man in a ridiculously efficient restraining hold.

"I called you here because I need you, Ug," Danzou said. "Take him to the training room, Even. To the table."

"No. No!" The old man's struggling was pointless, completely ineffective as he found himself being carried forcibly out of the foyer. "This is insanity! You can't be thinking of using me! Are you? I'm too old, it will never work!"

"You're wrong." Danzou was reaching into his robe and freeing the leather pouch as he followed Even and his writhing cargo down the hallway. "You'll work just long enough."

While Even immobilized Ugoi by strapping him to the table, Danzou retrieved the prepared surgery tray. It had been readied for the arrival of the rogue nin, and now it would serve this new recipient instead.

"You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to," Danzou said quietly.

Ugoi's eyes had begun to water. "Please, Danzou, please! After all we've been through, working together…I've been completely loyal! The other members have never been trustworthy, you need me watching your back! You're crazy if you think I can survive this!"

"I'm well-grounded in reality, dear Ug. I'm aware that you won't survive. His presence will displace you at once. And after that, your body won't last him more than a couple of weeks at best. But we've run out of time. You know as well as I do that without a new infusion of life force, these precious eyes will expire. There was a time, Ugoi, when you would have fought for the chance to lay down your life for this man. Would you now let him complete his disappearance into thin air, just to extend your stay here?"

"Put them in him!" Ugoi sputtered, straining at the straps to extend his shaking fingers and point to Even. "He's young, strong…he can be the permanent host!"

But Danzou was tapping the freshly-filled syringe, jetting just a bit of the yellowish drug out of the needle's tip to prime it properly. He plunged it unto the strapped inner arm, ignoring the desperate, fearful curses of his former associate.

"We must buy time. And, unfortunately, we must use your life as the most logical one to barter for it."

As soon as the old man stopped moving, disregarding the fact that he had not completely lost consciousness yet, Danzou began to make the incision to surgically remove his right eye.

Even witnessed it all in obedient silence, assisting as directed when ordered. Once the eyes were set, he felt a strange chill, as if an icy wind were blowing clear through his soul.

The half-lives in the room had passed right through him in their rush to be near their newly-revived master; they sought the revitalized force of the one they were so irresistibly drawn to, so lovingly attached to.

It was the first thing that Ugoi noticed when the anesthetic wore off. "My villagers," he smiled warmly, his voice toned with a composure and grace it had never known before. "Your Lordship has returned."

"So you have," Danzou bowed his head for a moment. "I'm honored to be the instrument for your resurrection, temporary though it is."

"Remove the bindings."

"Of course." Danzou quickly stripped off the straps and assisted Ugoi in sitting up. The elite nin frowned in disdain as he pulled the shirting open and observed the belly covered in gray hair.

"Is this your idea of a joke? Even in this old thing, I am fully capable of sending you to be crushed in the depths of the ocean with a snap of my fingers." He grumbled at his gnarled hands. "Maybe. If these accursed things can even snap."

"Don 't be vain. Aren't you the one who's always been so disparaging about physical appearance? It's only temporary, of course. We'll have you set up with something more suitable very soon. Won't we, Even?"

Even nodded.

"Heh heh. Even. Who are you trying to kid? I ought to know my own jutsu when I see it, Danzou. I know this man."

"Well, this man is the one who failed to retrieve the first choice body for you, so don't be getting in his head. He needs to concentrate on securing you something appropriate."

Even's hand came to his face absently as Ugoi/Jeninki gave a rich, rumbling laugh.

"I have missed our constant bickering, Danzou. Our little verbal sparring matches. You just can't resist trying to tell me what to do."

"I thought that being your advisor meant giving you advice. You should heed it far more often than you do."

"Pft. I do as I see fit." He felt a slight wave of nausea as he straightened up in the unfamiliar body. "So, Iruka-sensei, how have your lessons gone for you? Have you learned all that there is to know about being unwanted?"

"Many things became known to me that I might not have experienced otherwise. There were a number of consequences that I did not foresee. Although some were clearly predictable."

"Oh, my, Iruka. I was being a little facetious - but I see that you are entirely serious. Surely you weren't completely unwanted."

"I ceased having interactions other than official duties. Because those interactions stopped of their own accord."

"My. My my my. I knew Konoha was a bitchy little village, but not this petty. I should explain, Iruka-sensei. It was supposed to open your eyes and build your character. Not grind you under the disdaining heels of ignorant cruelty." Ugoi rose up on shaky, thick legs. "By my will, I shall see to it that you feel unwanted no more!"

"Not so loud. This isn't the amphitheatre," Danzou griped. "He doesn't have any concerns about such things any more. He's my shinobi now. I have just one thing to ask of you in his regard. Reverse the jutsu on his face. You've made him somewhat of a celebrity; one look at that mess and enemy nin from far and wide know exactly who this is. Not a very handy feature in his line of work."

"Oh. Oh! Well, for that purpose…I mean, why not. Come here, Iruka."

"Even. He is no longer Umino Iruka. He has a ROOT name now."

"ROOT? So, that's why he has that get-up. He looks like a fetish model. Very provocative. You're sick as ever, Danzou."

"Not everyone has an armor fetish. The provocative nature of that uniform is all in your head. Enough of this inane blather," Danzou groused.

Ugoi/Jeninki chuckled. "Come here Even. Will you be able to stand still for this?" His question rang out rhetorically, bemused. "What would you think of my hands upon your tender face once more?"

But Even stepped up without hesitation, unflinching when the plump fingers splayed in a replay of the touch that diverted his course in life irreversibly.

"This feels sort of intimate," Ugoi sighed. "I feel like I should ask for a little privacy here."

"Get on with it."

"Silence, Danzou. You remember, don't you, Iruka? You do remember."

"Yes. I cannot forget."

"So honest." With that, Jeninki tried to loft Ugoi's time-worn voice into the right notes. It took three failures and a coughing fit before he finally had the control of those foreign vocal chords enough to find the right pitch. On the fourth try, it became immediately apparent that he'd found his voice. The mutilated flesh under his fingers began to liquefy and crawl. He marveled at Even's imperviousness to the pain. The pain of restoration far out stripped the pain of applying the jutsu. And this was not going smoothly.

When Even's face began to resemble a lava flow more than a human countenance, Jeninki finally had to admit there was a problem.

"Agh…someone has tried to restore him by laying on another jutsu. I can't just reverse it. I can only deconstruct and remove everything down to the unaffected depth. Then he'll have to recover from that on his own. It will take some time to heal."

"Just finish the removals. Once you remove everything , I can follow up and do the healing."

"Hm. As you say. So you went ROOT. Turned tail when things got rough and ran away to join the circus instead of sticking with it and developing a little character amongst your fellow Leaf. It was a waste of my time and talent to plant that jutsu on you. You. Learned. Nothing. You just ran away."

But Even had no emotional reaction, and it was more of a soliloquy than a demand for response, so he was silent. The facial deconstruction required his full attention in order to handle the pain without reaction.

"There. Done. Your turn, Danzou. Have a care, this is very delicate work. Work up the regeneration in layers overall, not sections, or he'll end up looking like a crazy quilt."

With that, he slumped down into the chair nearby, and concentrated fiercely. It was extremely difficult in such a body, but he succeeded. He deactivated the Uzingan. To the closest observer, even to a Hyuuga, he now had liquid brown, beautiful, normal eyes. Well, it would likely seem odd to any close acquaintance of Ugoi, the old man's grey eyes had grown so pale with age and cataracts that they were nearly colorless. But he was just that, a reclusive old man, and a rather unpopular one at that. So no one had likely looked at, much less paid attention to, his eyes besides Danzou in many, many years.

"Was it some medic-nin that worked on you?" asked Danzou, taken aback at the difficulty of the task that had just been handed to him.

"Lady Tsunade."

"I guess I should have waited," Danzou said quietly. "But without this complication, you would already be as you were before."

Even was laid out on the table, stoically using his training to its limit to tolerate the excruciating procedures that forced regeneration of his flesh. "We don't have time to finish this now. But I had no idea that you had Tsunade's filthy jutsu upon you. You should have volunteered this information to me. I only knew that you refused to let her give you a false face."

His patient had been instructed to be still and silent, and still and silent he remained.

"Well, this will have the same result in the end as if she had never laid a crooked claw on you. It will heal into your natural configuration. Perhaps a detectable line or two between the next healing and the original skin that was left around your features."

"You keep fiddling around with him like that and we'll run out of time," Ugoi grunted. "This body is going to have a short usable period. Two weeks, perhaps, if I don't use any more chakra."

"If we get in a bind and you lapse, as a last resort I'll put the body in supported suspension. It will sustain you safely, almost indefinitely. And those meddling mice of Tsunade's won't know you're here, even if they look right at you. They'll think I'm trying to draw out the life of my dear old sick friend. A touching display of mercy." Danzou wiped his hands, leaving his last procedure to cure on Even's motionless face. Already the redness was muted; the rough, spongy expanses roped with veins and exposed ridges of muscle were being coated over with an even, smooth, opaque layer. He looked to be frozen in mid-morph between some medical textbook depicting anatomy and a teacher photo from one of his old classes. One could clearly begin to see the face of Umino Iruka, regardless of that classic clue of the scar across the bridge of his nose, left whimsically intact thanks to Jeninki's careful cutting.

It was really the first time Danzou had seen his student's true image. It was…refreshing. He looked forward to seeing the healing completed. But a few days would have to pass before the cells would have matured sufficiently to be called upon to multiply once more.

They couldn't afford to waste those days.

"I'm afraid, this time, Even, that I haven't a set target for you. You must travel beyond these Fire Country borders and find a healthy nin of Mist or Sound. Only take Sand if you can be absolutely positive that you are not seen. Rogue nin are preferred; but I want this body in prime condition, and uninjured rogues can be hard to come by. I would expect that you will end up killing several before you manage to take a suitable one in the right condition. Sack and bring back the heads of the dead that have book values. Destroy the rest without a trace. No apologies or reports regarding collaterals or bystanders. Just disappear them and your traces as well."

"If Hatake tries to stop you this time, I will leave it to your discretion. Be sure that this time he does not jeopardize your mission. If you kill him, I want that head for certain. I want that eye intact. If you choose, you can reveal yourself to him and enlist his assistance to bring your prisoner in. Teleport in and bring him inside, and eliminate him here. Well, you may not see him at all. But he does do perimeter management around here when he's not on assignment, and lately he's been here all the damned time, according to Ugoi."

Jeninki raised his tired old head and gestured to himself. "This was your spy?"

"No one ever suspected. An old man in the Hokage courtyard, dozing on the bench…he was there to feel safe, of course, a feeble soul in the protected circle where Konoha's great minds are ensconced. He heard so many things those fools thought were secret…and he brought word straight to me. He was a good man and a good soldier, right up to the end."

"He's still fine, Danzou. I sent him to join my villagers. He's here in the room now, enjoying our plotting and planning and happy to be rid of this tiresome shell."

"Then you are saying that there really is a village," Even said, adjusting his leg armor in preparation for departure.

Danzou gave him a serious look and shook his head. "Don't concern yourself with this. All that exists for you from this point is your mission. When you complete it successfully, we can take up your other questions with Hidata at length."

"You shouldn't send him off yet, Danzou. He needs a few hours at least, twenty-four would be optimum. If he gets to over-using his chakra before then, all the work we've done on his face will be for nothing. And he'll be hard-pressed to go forward afterward with his forehead melting down into his eyes, no matter how damned good you think he is."

"As you say, then. We'll delay until morning. Get the armor off and clean it properly. You've gotten it dirty."

"You can sleep with me tonight, I won't make you use any chakra," Ugoi barked in laughter. "Irresistible, am I not?"

Danzou scowled, and the youthful eyes in the old man's head narrowed.

"Oh, you don't like that joke? Don't forget, that's my man, Danzou. I drafted him for my village. He agreed. I can reclaim him at any time."

"Ridiculous. Do you have any idea how hard it was to train an adult into a ROOT shinobi? Your induction process is just a flick of the wrist. Pick another patsy."

"Are you defying me?"

"You should remember what your needs are at the moment, Jeninki," Danzou warned darkly. "You're in a very precarious position right now. And you expect me to be willing to risk so many things - my standing in Konoha, my best friend's last days in this life, my livelihood - and for all of that, you would negate all my hard work bringing Even to life? We will need ROOT to live again. He is Tsunade's concession to that goal. If anything happens to him, it all ends. She'll shut me down again."

Keeping an ear tuned to the bickering, Even had stripped off his armor and retrieved the saddle soap and wax from the cabinets. After flicking the chunks of matter off into the trash, he sat cross-legged on the cold floor, unmindful of the discomfort to his bare skin. He began to apply the wax to the armored plates, polishing them clean and shining.

In the end, he was left alone in the training room, working the leather back into pristine condition in relative silence. The two old men had moved on with their bickering, out into the hallway and beyond.

It took time to massage the conditioner into the leather properly. It was late when he finished and found the uniform holder his equipment had come on initially, loading the armor back onto it in order to store it properly. The place was quiet. His quick check told him he was the only one left awake now.

Danzou had not told him where in the house he was to be staying. Rather than disturb the peace, Even eased himself onto the steel table and shifted his metabolism down to prepare for mission sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Kakashi stood, a living testament to poor posture, leaning against the front of Tsunade's desk with one hip.

"Don't get any of that on my papers," she said, pulling the pile of proposals she'd been reviewing closer in defense.

The silver-haired nin gave a bemused masked frown and looked down at the stains and yes, there were a few bits and chunks here and there on his utility vest. His head swiveled to watch the door a full two seconds before Ibiki burst in through it.

"Ah. The gang's all here. Now, Hatake, report." Tsunade ordered.

His run-down of his observations while tailing Iruka held them rapt.

"So he was bringing in a live one. He took the right hand, you say? That's a secondary bounty item. They must be looking to collect."

"I saw them all. If it was just bounty he was after, he would have capped and sacked the other two when he had the chance, they had book value. But he burned them intact. I don't think it was book value he was unhappy about, even though I damaged his prisoner so severely the cap wouldn't have been proof of anything. He wanted that man alive."

"In keeping with the theory that he has the eyes. They won't last much longer now." Tsunade stared at her hands. "It may force him into something he'd prefer not to do. We may need to pull Iruka out, just to make sure he doesn't end up as that Sound nin's replacement."

"Maybe we can come up with some special mission and request him temporarily? Unless you're calling this off, we need a convincing story to get Iruka out of there temporarily. Don't forget, we have this alter-ego to deal with. Danzou would give you back Iruka, Special Jounin. My guess is that he won't give you Iruka, ROOT shinobi. I don't know how this will work."

"Team him with me, so I can keep an eye on him," Kakashi offered. "Time is closing in. If he's going to use Iruka, he'll do it soon. You need to pull him now."

"Yes, yes, it makes sense. Suggestions, then? What is our life-and-death mission here?"

"Get him out of there first, tell him to prep his gear and report. Give him the mission scroll here. That's how it usually works, going up blabbing about it won't ring true. It'll take him a little time unless he comes in his ROOT gear. He'll have to get his equipment from home." Kakashi urged.

"Can the messenger birds navigate through that shield he's set up?" Tsunade raised an eyebrow at Ibiki.

"It suppresses detection. It doesn't prevent anything from passing through it, " the towering shinobi answered.

"Look, it's getting late. If he was going to do anything today, he's probably already done it anyway. We can send the messenger pre-dawn with less suspicion, and if we stay on this now we can have the mission scroll ready and our stories straight as well. I hope you two didn't have plans."

Ibiki and Kakashi glanced at each other guardedly, each confirming that the other didn't appear to have concerns about foregoing any plans.

"What about surveillance?" Ibiki asked, just ahead of Kakashi's open mouthed attempt to ask the same question.

"You don't have anything in place?" Tsunade asked, surprized.

"I have a bird on the apartment and one at Danzou's. But they'll just alert me when he moves."

"Not good enough. I can put a man on it tonight," Ibiki frowned.

"I'll send Pakkun. His stealth will come in handy right now."

"Go with the dog in stealth, we can't afford to be detected and warn him. Get to it now, Kakashi." Tsunade rose and swept the piles of paperwork off her desk and into a heap on the floor before striding to the doors and sweeping past the ANBU guard.

"Shizune. This will take us until dawn at best. Keep us in hot tea, and make sure you're ready if we need something. First, I need a priority scroll blank and oxblood ink brought to my desk. Then you'll start the tea coming. Understood?"

"Yes, Lady," Shizune said. "Right away."

They worked diligently through the night, and by the wee hours the story had come together, the cleverly stylized scroll looked to be from another land, and Kakashi had geared up and was ready to go. The three waited impatiently after the messenger was sent. Twenty minutes passed, then forty. By six, an hour had passed with no reply or return of the messenger, and still no Iruka. By six-thirty, as the sun began to show on the horizon, it was apparent that there was a hitch in their plan.

"We might be too late," Ibiki said grimly. "Perhaps he implanted the eyes in Iruka last night."

"I won't indulge in guessing games yet. Kakashi, call in your ninken. See what he knows." Tsunade was leaning heavily on her elbows, staring the lone item on her desk - the mission scroll.

"Oof," Pakkun grunted, staggering as Kakashi called up his body and essence at once. The gloved hand steadied him, and he gave a grudging nod of thanks.

"Pak. Report." Kakashi knelt down on one knee.

"Not much to report. When I first got there, someone was going in the gate, but they were just past the barrier. I couldn't tell who it was. You sent the bird-brain in this morning, I'm guessing? It flew in. It didn't come out. No other activity around the place whatsoever. Nothing else went in or out. And from the outside, that shield is completely effective. Can't tell who's in there at all."

"Shit," Ibiki smacked a fist on his rock-hard thigh. "He might have done it. Sounds like he has at least one accomplice. It would have helped to know who went in. They may have been bringing the eyes from wherever he had them stashed."

Tsunade was getting a sinking feeling as well. What would they be facing then; Iruka with Uzingan powers? Would he recognize them, would he still be an ally?

"I'll sending the condor. We'll at least know that he's defying me openly if he disregards this message."

She finished her note with a flourish and used her official chop. It would be insubordination if he did nothing in receiving this one. The ANBU, alert as ever in spite of the night-long watch, came for the note without being beckoned and took it to the perches on the balcony's alcove.

Once the large bird was away, Kakashi nodded to Pakkun and sent him back to keep watch. Hope was getting slimmer, but the copy-nin wasn't quite ready to think the worst yet.

_tbc_


	17. Chapter 17

_Sorry for the long delay! If anyone is left out there reading, here's the next installment, and thank you for reading and reviewing..._

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Idiots. They must think he's at risk." Danzou growled as he received the initial summon. He called out into the quiet hallway, "Even! Get your gear on! Prepare to move out. Now!"

Jeninki's Ugoi came to with rough start. This body was not a morning person's, and with the strains on it, he was finding it difficult to move with any speed or grace.

"What? What is it, what?" he croaked from his doorway.

'Nothing. I just need to send Even out now. Tsunade wants him back for a mission of her own. We don't have that kind of time to play with."

"No, we surely do not," Ugoi rubbed his wrinkled face with both hands to try and perk up. He staggered a bit and had to brace himself against the wall in the hallway as a sharp pain pierced his left shoulder. Paler than before, when he tried to continue to walk, he went to one knee instead. "Danz…" his call cut off as the pain increased sharply. Slowly, he collapsed forward, gasping fruitlessly for air.

Even swiftly moved to intercept and scooped him up as he lost consciousness.

"No, this can't happen, not so soon! Even, put him back in the bed. I need to get some things, watch him for me." Danzou hurriedly returned with a bag and waved Even away. "I'll take care of this. There's no time. I may have to suspend him already, I need to hurry. Get to your mission. Transport to the old council chamber first so no one sees you go. If that causes problems with your face you'll just have to cope with it. We can't have you seen on the way out. That might have been our error last time."

The cloth mask adhered to the dampness of the healing tissue; luckily, the hard half-mask touched little of damaged area. Once outfitted completely, Even did as ordered. When he appeared in the cold, empty chamber after teleporting, an increase in the dampness and the propensity of the cloth to stick tight was all that he noticed in the way of change to his face.

The morning air was clear and cool, and he darted out in low profile, using his natural skills instead of his chakra to begin his journey. At the moment, secrecy was more important than speed, and speed was going to be unavoidably slow anyway until the twenty-four hours were up.

He made it out of the initial perimeter completely undetected within the hour as the sun cleared the horizon, marking the start of his mission's first day.

xxxxxxxx

"Damn." Tsunade raked her hair back from her forehead after reading the reply returned with the condor. "This is getting more complicated by the minute."

Ibiki stepped up and took the note, shaking his head.

"He says Iruka's on a training mission. That he left two days ago and isn't projected to return for another three weeks at least. It's a lie, of course. You just saw him return." Tsunade explained to Kakashi.

"He saw an unidentified man in dark armor," Ibiki corrected, motioning towards the copy-nin. "Iruka never said he was ROOT, or we could easily have implied that it was him without arousing suspicion. But if Kakashi knew his identity, then we'd have to have a damned good reason for killing his captive. We can't just come out and call him a liar, because we can't admit to Kakashi's knowing anything about who he saw."

"So he's probably still in there. I can't think of a reason why Danzou would hide him, unless it's to conceal the fact that he's given him the eyes," Tsunade said.

"Then what are we holding back for at this point?" Kakashi asked. "Let's go in."

"Because all of this is conjecture. We haven't been able to establish for a fact that he even has the eyes in his possession." Ibiki lectured impatiently.

"Why else would he want a live prisoner right now? We have enough circumstantial evidence…"

"To what? Prosecute him? We don't need evidence. We just need the be certain that we're correct. The consequences of busting in there and being wrong are going to be dramatic. Politics, whether you like it or not, still have the power to interfere with the way this village's shinobi are managed. And if you think you've been made to act under orders you've disliked before, wait until you carry them out at the self-centered whims of the councilmen. Because Danzou will be able to show this as an abuse of power if we're wrong. He'll use it to propagandize for his cause to re-assert control over the Hokage jurisdiction." As Tsunade spoke she rapped the desktop, turning over the possibilities.

Kakashi smiled suddenly. "Man, I'm slow today. Of course we can find out exactly who is in there. Pak can go in, in his stealth mode, and look around. He might be detected - but what will they detect? Just a bit of life force - he can't be identified. And he just needs to do a once-over and get out."

"Well then, what are you waiting for? Make it happen, now."

Shizune appeared with fresh tea and the professional shinobi took great pains not to yawn or appear tired. It wasn't the lack of sleep so much as the stress. They all felt sluggish and frustrated.

x

Pakkun's report to Kakashi was not what they expected. The two conferred quietly, and Kakashi presented the news to Tsunade.

"Iruka really isn't there. Danzou is taking care of Elder Ugoi. He appears to be very ill, maybe on his death bed. Maybe we're completely wrong about this. Pakkun had no trouble looking around, and he checked out the whole place. I guess Iruka could have left as soon as he reported back in, and got out without the bird spotting him. It would be pretty easy at his level." Kakashi was shaking his head, motioning to the pug to wait with him.

Tsunade groaned and barely resisted the urge to fling the carefully prepared bogus scroll out the window. Instead, she slipped it into a holder and called for Shizune.

"Lock this up. Then go home and rest. I'm going to catch a nap right here, so the rest of you get out. Kakashi, hit the field and start tracking Iruka as soon as you're able. I want reports sent back every day. Be on you highest guard if he received the transplant. Make no assumptions. Ibiki, have someone take up the watch over Danzou's until Kakashi reports back. Go ahead with your team meeting and start running down those long shot ideas. If the transplant hasn't been performed and we can just get through a few more weeks, this whole mess will disappear. Until then, we'll remain on high alert. Now, everybody out! And true emergencies only for the next two hours." The ANBU bowed and moved to escort everyone out while Tsunade tipped the chair back and rested her heels on the edge of the desk, reclining and already closing her eyes.

"I had a team meeting slated for today already. Shiranui's overdue, I'll be a man down until he reports. We'll work around him until he gets back," Ibiki said, turning to leave.

"I'm going to check in with the perimeter control monitors to see if I can get a direction of travel and I'll be leaving straight from there." Kakashi added, moving to follow.

"I'm still not convinced that this is an encouraging sign," Ibiki called back from the doorway. "We're not clear of this yet."

Tsunade waved him away without looking up and breathed a heavy sigh when the doors fell shut.

Oh, for the powers of the Third and his crystal ball. She would have to do some research and try to learn the secrets of his vision when this mess was cleared up.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was time to commit to the land of first choice. Sand, Sound or Mist. Sand was last choice per the master, and Mist nin were not as readily flushed out. So Sound it would be, then. There were known pockets of Sound rebels to the far west of the Sound village proper. It was among the areas marked on the mission maps to avoid unless specifically assigned to a sortie in the area. The nin there must surely be secure in their dominance of the area by now. They would not be as likely to expect company.

The quiet of the heavily wooded area was to his benefit; Even's skills in moving in silence were long-established. They were first ones he perfected upon returning to the field after his disfigurement, long before joining up with ROOT. His razor-sharp hearing was a natural trait, honed over many years in the classroom. No one would hear him coming; but he would hear them, he had no doubt.

He traveled without incident, diverting away from a group of Konoha traders; and later, a mission team of three Konoha shinobi dragging a sack of something that was chakra concealed back to the village. By the time the daylight was fading, he made his camp for the night and checked his face in the polished metal of his largest shuriken. It looked raw and sore, just the way it felt. But it did appear to be trying to heal. The edges were producing a thin scabbing, something the damaged flesh had never tried to do before.

It only concerned him in that the scabs would be stiff and might limit his movement somewhat, reducing his efficiency, if only temporarily.

Danzou's reason for restoring his face seemed false, but he couldn't yet determine what the real motive might be.

No matter. He pressed himself into the two hours of intensely concentrated sleep that would provide him with sufficient refreshment for the next twenty-two hours of action. This would leave him extremely well rested and ready for anything. By awakening he would have full use of his chakra, and woe be to the next rogue nin to come into his sights.

xxxxxxxxx

"Kashi-kun," leered Yori, grinning at his post next to the thrumming nerve center of the perimeter monitor. His hands withdrew from his work station, which caught the eye of his neighboring attendant. "Cover my area for a minute."

"Yori - I wasn't sure if you were still stationed here," Kakashi smiled back. "It's business this time, I'm afraid."

"Hmph. It's been too long. What is your business here, then?"

"I need to review the egress for the last forty-eight hours. I'm looking for a jounin or above, probably on the back side, doing a teleport or a slip-through. I need direction of travel and time."

"Nothing much on the backside yesterday. There was a blip here early this morning," Yori pointed to the holographic diagram and replayed the minute disturbance. "No foreign presence detected, though."

"Time?"

"This was around six in the morning."

Kakashi nodded. That would be about right if Iruka was still there when the first message was delivered; he could surmise that Danzou had dispatched him to avoid turning him over to Tsunade. With a time and at least a point of departure, the copy-nin was on his way, calling Pakkun along for some good old-fashioned rabbit hunting.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The wee hours saw the end of Even's compressed restoration sleep, and he was able to move in darkness to locate a possible target for his first recon mission into a rogue nin enclave. He conjured up a small lizard avatar to be his eyes, sending it scuttling straight in among them.

It was a small group, only fourteen souls, four of them companion women, a child, and two elderly men. One kunoichi, which gave Even a moment's hesitation - were kunoichi acceptable candidates? Until he was able to ask, he assumed that they were not, since it hadn't come up. That left the six male ninja to scrutinize.

They weren't much to look at, but after eliminating three for obvious physical disqualifications, he had three solid possibilities.

The tallest, strongest man was busy helping one of the companion women. The outline of the flowing robe suggested a decent physical specimen, but it was difficult to tell under all of that material. He moved without any sign of hesitation, his motions were deliberate and sound, and his strength was evident as he lifted the heavy load with ease and patiently waited for the woman to decide exactly what she wanted done with it.

His shaved head was remarkably clean and unscarred.

The ROOT shinobi nodded to himself. Fortune was with him, an excellent candidate right off the bat.

Fortune turned, however, as the alert man sent a foot out and smacked it down on the darting lizard. Instead of the crunch of tiny bones, the pop of the dispelled chakra alerted him immediately.

"Intruders!" he shouted, flinging the supply sack aside and shoving the woman. "Alert the others! Take cover!"

A broad beam of harsh chakra flared out, searching; Even met it in full sail instead of hiding, advancing straight on and bursting through the underbrush to meet the scowling nin's glare.

His opponent did a double-take at the unfamiliar armor, not sure what level of opponent was bearing down in him. Even's swiftly-launched six-armed snare was growing in size as it spun towards him, and he shot straight up, barely in time for the black webbing to deflect harmlessly off his heel. He moved over the dark-clad man and stayed at the treetops, launching a barrage of hundreds of small needles from the band on his left wrist. His eyes narrowed in concentration as the man below somehow dodged them all, a feat not unlike running though the rain without being wet by a single drop. The seriousness of his situation hit home immediately. This was a highly skilled ninja, an enemy capable of taking down his entire encampment.

His promised to lead and defend the others had been tested before. As the other shinobi piled into the clearing, flinging kunai and working up their defense jutsu, Kotai shook his head. They had nothing, even with their advantage in numbers, that would challenge this man much. He shot a wide, flat wall of pressure down and watched closely.

Even had no sense that he was in any danger. His most powerful opponent, the bald nin, was above him, and had taken a conservative, defensive stance. The rabbling ninjas below were coming in a collected group, sending up showy shots to put him on notice that they were a force to be reckoned with. They seemed to be under the mistaken belief that he would be off put by their number and their strength. He summed them up easily and while he did not underestimate them, he rated them as manageable.

He deflected away their tentative first wave of attack, keeping a watch on the one above.

"What do you want here? Identify yourself!" snarled the old man. He seemed secure in his comrades' ability to defend their turf, standing near the front of the groups without any obvious weaponry.

The masked nin had come to a halt, and still in a stance prepared for attack, tipped his head down to see them more clearly through the mask. The slight blue tinge to their skin was something he had not seen through his avatar. If they had the Okami bloodline, their chakra powers had inferior capacity.

He let his pause continue, and he did not react when Kotai dropped behind him in stealth. He waited and spun at the last moment, blocking the singing blade with a steady hand. The other nin's flesh was clearly blue-tinged; Even ripped away the blade and flung it so that it embedded into the tree a bare inch from the old man's nose. His mind had already rifled through the bingo books and come up empty except for the kunoichi. Her price was too low to justify hauling a cap around this early in the game; he applied capture force to the man who was now carelessly close and flung him into him own people. Behind the momentary curtain of the flying robes Even seemed to disappear.

The riled group began to launch a return volley, it took a good fifteen minutes to finally realize that Even had not taken cover, gone on the defensive, or sought another angle of attack; he was long gone.

He moved along silently, tendrils of chakra carefully seeking. If this was a common hideout of Okami rogues, he needed to keep moving. They were not suitable prey, and they had few, low book values.

He decided to change direction and head further west, into slightly higher elevations. In the mountain passes, some of the more established outlaw groups held to easily defended territories on outcroppings and in cliff-wall caves.

He passed a peaceful satellite village, a small cooperative of farmers separated from the main civilization by a rocky, barren stretch of land interrupting the continuity of the fertile countryside. There were some strong men there, in perfect health, and he detoured to watch them briefly. They were not rogues but law-abiding, productive citizens; easy prey, if he decided to take one. But the chakra development just wasn't there; it came as a surprise to him that these people were out here without any shinobi defense. He stood in their midst and with just a bare touch of chakra stealth moved through them completely unseen.

He took that to mean that he was far away from any threatening outlaw groups, or they would be long dead.

He left at a faster pace; the further he had to go to complete his mission, the longer it would take to get back. He didn't detect the lone shinobi lying motionless in the rushes until the scent of human blood jerked him to a halt. That scent was oddly familiar.

He knew the wounds were grave just from his instincts. He parted the tall reeds and saw the familiar red-on-green of a Konoha uniform. He recognized the broken metal protruding from the shoulders and hips; the man had been held captive and had broken the barbed restraints that held him tethered, usually suspended above the ground to prevent just such an escape.

He carefully rolled the man face-up, noting discouragingly that the ragged uniform was muddied, thoroughly soaked and ice cold in addition to being darkened with blood.

He nodded in affirmation at the bruised face of Shiranui Genma. It made sense, the jounin often operated alone on assassinations. This mission might have been a success in the strictest of terms; often assassinations went awry after the deed was done.

He scooped up his fellow soldier as his mind made the calculations as to how much time this would cost him and how obligated he was by traditional code versus the set of priorities given him by his new leader. His hands radiated life-enhancing power into the limp body as he walked, wasting no time in cooing over the man to attempt to wake him. He found higher, dry ground with sufficient cover and placed Genma on his back, face up. The broken ends of the barbed hooks would be pressed slightly into him in this position, but his back had looked relatively undamaged otherwise. As Even straightened to look, his guess had been correct. The shinobi had been tortured, and it was largely damage to his throat and chest that had brought him so close to death.

Even's steady hands pumped specific amount of chakra healing into the exact points of severe injury. In thrifty increments, he healed the very worst of it efficiently with a small percentage of expended energy. It would be more painful in the short run, but he needed to be prudent. He had a long, difficult mission ahead. He had no intention of cutting it short to take this man home.

He took a moment to consider the metal barbs. They were not life-threatening per se. They would be more of a bleeding risk out than in. A conventional field removal would be crude and more likely to cause further damage, and he could not justify the wasted power to jutsu them away properly.

He dribbled water from his supply into the dry lips, just enough to moisten it. The eyelids were starting to flutter, first a little, then a lot.

The strange mask hanging over his helpless, pained body alarmed Genma, even in his limited consciousness. The armored hand came down and pressed over his mouth to silence him, then slid up and eased him back into sleep. There was no real point to having him awake.

He lifted his former colleague and with stoic resignation backtracked to the peaceful farm village. He henged into Kakashi before striding into the first group of people he saw. The copy-nin was widely known and somewhat of a folk hero among the masses in many places. If they recognized him, it should afford him enough cooperation from these non-Konohan people to be reasonably certain they would either see to the jounin's recovery until he was mobile or deliver him to the gates themselves.

A young boy spotted him first and ran in a panic to a nearby doorway; Even supposed that Genma's severe injuries would work in his favor as far as getting cooperation quickly.

A man in common cloth and wire-rimmed glasses came out nervously to meet him.

"My comrade had been injured. I must ask your assistance."

The bespectacled man seemed tongue-tied, one hand worrying into his sandy mop of hair.

"I am Hatake Kakashi. You are..?"

"Oh! Your name is familiar. I'm sorry, my name is Mimishu Haru. I am the lead constable and medical officer for our village."

"Where can we take him?"

"Right this way." Haru lead him, glancing constantly over his shoulder, back into the small building he had emerged from. The boy darted out past them and kept going as soon as they opened the door to enter. There was a desk, an examining table, a file cabinet and a rack of weaponry. Apparently this was the small settlement's military, medical and administrative headquarters, all in one room manned by one soul. "Place him there. This looks severe; it's a little out of my league. But I'll see what I can do."

The silver-haired shinobi nodded and looked at him with a steady, intense one-eyed stare as he placed Genma on the table. It made Haru very uncomfortable.

"What has happened? This is torture?" Haru asked, even more upset. Trouble of this nature had a tendency to spread. His village was ill-prepared to deal with the sort that would inflict this kind of punishment.

"So it would appear. I found him this way a fair distance from here. We were not on a mission together. You should preserve him as best you can. Konoha will reward you for you trouble if you do. Either deliver him back to them, or alert them so they can come for him. I must go."

"No, wait! We have no defenses here. If whoever did this comes looking for him, we won't be able to stop them, and we have so many innocents here that might get hurt!" Haru pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "Hataki-san, I beg of you! Don't…"

"You will manage. Konoha is in your debt." With that, Even turned and left, closing the door on the next stuttering protest.

He supposed it would have been kinder to have henged into Kakashi before Genma saw him and became frightened, possibly thinking that he had been recaptured. But it didn't make a material difference in the fact that he'd preserved the ninja's life and brought him to a reasonable chance of safe return to the village. The ROOT nin had preserved a valuable resource for Konoha, and now he had his primary mission still before him, one he had elected to delay.

It had occurred to him that Danzou might be displeased and disagree with his actions. It was for that reason he so abruptly cut his act short and left to double-time it back to the higher region. This time he went to the rushes and began tracking Shiranui's blood traces back to the source. Surely, whoever had done this to a Konoha nin was fair game for the taking.

_tbc_


	18. Chapter 18

_OK, sorry, careful editing thrown to the wind - impatient and lazy, what a combination! But I spent half an hour editing this after uploading and the site made me log back in instead of saving my changes! Argh! That'll teach me not to 'save often'. Well, I'm just having a heck of a time trying to get these up faster somehow so you don't get too bored! Thanks for reading and reviewing! _

**Chapter Eighteen**

He had not been particularly worried about being followed; Even's concerns were centered on remaining undetected by those he approached, to get a bead on any potential prey.

It was a calculated risk. The time and energy to conceal his route could not be justified. If someone chose to take exception to his passing, he would deal with them when they caught up with him, as unlikely as that would be.

As luck would have it, Kotai, the Okami rogue nin, was not one to just let an enemy appear with a challenge and then go on his way without explanation. The intruder needed to be identified and his presence explained, or he might return with others or cause trouble in some other way. The unobscured chakra traces were clear enough for his more than adequate tracking skills; only the speed of his quarry presented a challenge

Kotai had concealed himself upon catching up, just in time to observe the minimalistic rescue of the Konoha nin. He watched the scene play out with growing interest. They did not appear to be comrades, there was no particular warmth or care in the way the armored shinobi extracted the man from his life-threatening situation. It was a little puzzling, because the attitude was far from that of a sympathetic do-gooder or noble hero shot with superiority. It had the flavor of a shopkeeper stocking a shelf - just a mundane function that was merely a part of his job.

The nin had even taken the time to henge before handing off the badly wounded man. There was no one powerful enough in the village to be of any consequence; a shinobi of this caliber would have easily detected that when he passed the quiet settlement the first time. Fooling them with a false identity seemed indulgent. It was a dangerous delay in getting the victim to help for very little reason.

Rather like the aborted attack at their settlement. There was no fire, no heat of rage or passion, no fear or excitement. Just unemotional, concise execution of the matter at hand and an icy disregard that offered no explanations or apologies.

Kotai had only seen such an extreme of this behavior by the possessed, and by puppets. But he detected no such jutsu, and his greatest strength was in sensing and analyzing such things. He followed his instincts when the dark nin resumed his journey away from the village. While he doubted that the disguised man would stoop to bothering civilians, his commitment to protect these people was too strong to just leave without making sure things were all right first. And he had to concede that he was more than just a bit curious.

He marched boldly into the farming village to get a good look at the still gravely injured Konoha soldier. Kotai and his group, as distant neighbors, had a decent relationship with the farmers here; they had at times stepped in to defend the civilians, and in return took supplies when their own stocks were low. None of them bothered to pretend that the interrelationship was legitimate. Kotai's group had been exiled for a number of crimes, and both the villagers and the outcasts were in violation for allowing open exchanges without at minimum posturing as enemies.

But their truce was an easy one nonetheless. Kotai went to the only healer's station and bowed upon entering. He was taken aback at the condition of the injured ninja up close. Had he been in charge of saving this man, he would have moved much more quickly, and shown a much higher level of concern. The medically-trained peace officer nodded back in greeting and waved him in.

"Kotai-san, such good timing! Please - can you assist me?" the young officer asked nervously, clearly out of his league with such a mess before him.

"Of course, Haru-san. This looks quite serious. Do you know where all of this took place, who his opponents were?" Kotai approached quickly as he pushed up his sleeves; he cast his hands over the motionless body, slipping gentle chakra whispers into the worst of the wounds, gathering impressions to assist in their triage. They worked together carefully to loosen and remove the outer layer of wet, soiled clothing. As the muddied, dark cloth came away, the lighter, blood-soaked clothing underneath was revealed. The number and variety of wounds only added confusion as to the type of battle the shinobi had fought in before the restraints had been embedded.

"I know next to nothing. Only that he is a nin of Konoha and needs to be returned to them."

"Who is it that brought him to you?"

"An elite. He gave his name only as Hataki. He said this was a Konoha citizen, and that there might be some compensation if we returned him alive. Then he just turned around and left. I was asking him all sorts of things…but he just left without saying another word. He gave me chills, Kotai, to treat a comrade with such aloofness. Do you know of him?"

"We had a slight run-in, but just as you described here, when we tried to talk to him, he left. Something's very strange about him. He's no comrade of this man; I observed him before he came to see you. His Leaf uniform was just part of a henge he threw on before he revealed his presence to you. I don't like it one bit that he feels so free to barge into our territory and nose around without explanation." His hand paused. "These barbs need to come out right away. That nin was easily skilled enough to have removed them. Maybe he has some alliance with the people that did this."

"I didn't feel threatened by him, Kotai-san. I didn't feel like he even reacted to my presence one way or the other, except to make his delivery and leave."

"Exactly. It makes me wonder what his purpose is, using you as he pleases and acting as if no one else merits a second thought." The bare head bowed in concentration, and the first barb spirited into the water bowl with a splash.

"Maybe this man can tell us when he awakens." Haru pressed down a clean square of gauze smeared with ointment to cover a large, weeping wound under their patient's chin

"Anything is possible. I didn't see any sign that they knew one another, though." Another barb splashed, metal clanging against the bottom of the steel bowl when it sank.

Haru stared at the water darkening with blood, and the level of cruelty behind imbedding the heavy metal deep into soft, sensitive human flesh began to truly sink in. It chilled him to the bone. "We don't want this kind of trouble here. I want to get this man to his village as soon as possible, before whoever did this comes looking for him."

"You make a good point." Splash, clang! "Put some pressure on the removal sites for me, Haru. I'll have to start them healing from the inside or they'll likely become infected."

The largest, deepest barb had been embedded in hip bone. Kotai's considerable skill was tested, but he managed to remove it while leaving the bone as intact as possible. This one had to be coaxed out with both hands, and he dropped the gory thing into the bowl with the others. This would bleed more profusely, and the pale soul on the table had little life force to spare. Kotai applied the pressure and began knitting the damage at this wound first. It was a excruciating location to embed such a thing. He was not sure if the wound would ever be free of pain even after it healed.

They were both startled when a bloodied hand, shaking hard, raised up with tremendous effort.

"No, no, be still. You are safe, shinobi-san. You have been delivered to us for medical care." Haru gently pressed down on the trembling forearm.

An eye twitched open, then squeezed shut in a grimace. Genma's breathing grew ragged, and his whole body tensed visibly.

Kotai moved to the next wound. "What spirit. Even in this condition, he's still fighting so hard."

"Yes, but it's not good for him. Shhh, you must be still."

"Do we know his name?"

"No. Nothing. I would guess from what you say that this Hataki just found him; anyone would know he was Leaf from his uniform markings."

Genma fought to sit up, just achieving a jerk upward.

"Soldier!" Kotai blurted loudly into his face. "You must be still. You're badly wounded. You are no longer in the possession of whoever did this to you. We will return you to Konoha as soon as you are stable enough to move."

Genma's chakra, damaged and weak, flared out irregularly for help. He was only partially conscious, and still in a defensive state. He felt only his pains and did not recall breaking away and fighting past the guards to escape into the cover of the swampy rushes. His involuntary pulses still called out desperately for rescue.

Kakashi and Pakkun had been flying in pursuit, spurred by the need to catch up with Iruka and see for themselves that he had not been made to host the madman's eyes. They had not rested or slowed in their pace, and they were nearly upon the farming village when Genma's clearly familiar connection slapped them both to attention. Kakashi's blood boiled immediately at the level of distress in the jounin's psychic cry for help.

He headed straight in, sharingan uncovered and beginning to spin up as he went up in a long, lofting leap and landed in the doorway, slamming open the door and bursting in on the verge of slaughtering both men poised over the agonized shinobi.

His lightning-fast perception brought him to a halt at once. Genma, grossly injured, was being assisted, not attacked, by these men.

And Iruka's trace chakra was lingering in the air as well.

Kotai went to battle stance and Haru fell back on the floor in fright, calling out with his arms raised defensively. "Hatake!"

Kakashi's brow knit at the sound of his name. "Do I know you?" he asked warily.

"It's not him," Kotai assured Haru. He dropped his defense slightly, motioning to the silver-haired stranger. There was nothing resembling that reserved coldness coming from this man. "You're not the one who brought this man to us."

"No. Explain."

"A nin of dark armor henged into your likeness and left him here to be treated. You know him? He said his name was Hatake."

"I am Hatake. Your dark nin used my name as well as my image, then. What is his condition?" The question was almost rhetorical. One look and it was clear just how serious Shiranui's situation was. It wasn't really a good sign that he was still fighting them. It was energy he could not afford to spare, and Kakashi moved to address the problem, displacing Kotai at the downed shinobi's side.

Genma was twisting weakly, sensing Kakashi nearby. The copy-nin stepped up and laid four fingers lightly across Genma's blood-spattered forehead, easing his reassuring presence into that touch. A part of his mind released and opened up to flash-focus on their exchange, exposing itself to entwine their chi on the level of the distress calls, sending supportive chakra along with his silent message to quiet the fearful pleas. _Be still, now, Gen-chan, I'm here now. You're safe. You need to take it easy and let us help you. Relax for me, let go. You must focus your energy on maintaining your strength so we can get you home._

The injured jounin grew quiet and the tension lessened as he absorbed the reassurances and soothing wash of familiar, protective chakra; as soon as he stopped fighting, his body took over and dropped him into merciful unconsciousness once more.

Haru, watching wide-eyed, shakily regained his feet, and timidly tried to direct the silver-haired man's attention to the red-tinged bowl. "Kotai-san removed these from his body. His is in very poor condition still."

"The man that brought him here. Did he have eyes like mine?"

Haru blanched under Kakashi's hard stare, cold sweat beginning to prickle the back of his neck. "No, I thought they were normal...wait, I don't mean it like that...I mean, he had one eye covered, I didn't look him right in his eye...I know it wasn't red. It wasn't anything like...I've never seen anything like that. Like that red eye you have."

That proved nothing ,of course; with a good henge, it might not have been possible to distinguish anything about the true nature of Iruka's eyes, especially since the witness was a civilian. Kakashi, slightly repulsed at the man's submissive behavior, finally released his stare and checked on the metal bowl he had been directed to. He recoiled immediately at the sight. He knew the tortures associated with these embedded restraints. Genma was likely in far worse pain mentally than he was physically. Iruka had done the bare minimum to help Genma by just dumping him off here. His chunin would have been moved to tears at the thought of a fellow shinobi enduring this treatment. He cursed Tsunade and Danzou bitterly in his thoughts once more.

"Genma-kun," he said quietly, doubtful that his words would be heard. "I'm sending for a team to take you back." He turned and crooked a finger at the still open doorway. Pakkun trotted inside.

Kotai and Haru were bemused at the appearance of the ninken, and slightly taken by surprise when he spoke.

"Yeah, Boss? What do we do for him?"

"I'll send a bird with the message, it will be faster…but I want two of the boys to stand guard over him until the team arrives to take him back." Kakashi looked up, with an expression that warned that his question would need to have yes for an answer if they didn't want trouble. "You can take care of him until then? It shouldn't be more than a day. I'm hoping they have someone in the field close enough to respond right away."

"You're leaving without him?" Kotai asked boldly, not cowed by Kakashi's powerful aura. "I can't stay. My trail will grow cold. I was in pursuit when this man's plight diverted me. If we both go, there are no shinobi in this village to protect him. Your comrade will be at risk."

"What trail? My impersonator's?"

"Just so. He came into my encampment and engaged me in battle; but just when we were squaring off, he fled. I must know his identity and his motive."

"I don't think he's a threat to your people. You're just wasting your time." Kakashi finished the note and placed it in the capsule; he pulled out the messenger scroll and retrieved the swiftest bird from the inventory, affixing the note to its leg.

"I'll be the judge of that." Kotai's dark eyes flashed defiantly.

Kakashi went to the door and set the messenger on its way. He bit his thumb and called up four more of his ninken instead of the two he had decided on earlier.

Kotai was reluctantly impressed. He'd worked with men who had a ninken for a summon, some who had two. But never one with five, and never had any of them been capable of such perfect speech.

"We have a problem here, then," Kakashi growled. "I'm on the same trail, and I have far more invested in this than you do."

"Is he in league with the men who administered this torture?"

"No. That's really all I can tell you. That, and that I don't believe he has any real interest in you or your associates. No offense, but if you're their leader, I doubt he would have left any evidence that your encampment or anyone in it ever existed if he'd been so inclined."

"Well, you may have more invested in the pursuit, but you're the only one here with an investment in this man," Kotai gestured to Genma's silent body. "Quite a dilemma."

"If you fuck with me, you'll regret it," Kakashi shot back tersely. "You will stay and you will watch over him. Agree now, and you can follow the dogs and catch up with me as soon as my people come for him."

The look in his eye said that Kotai should already know the retribution he would receive if he disagreed. In fact, Kakashi intended to slay the outlaw without warning and leave a clone to keep watch if need be, both undesirable moves in this situation, but his only other real alternative.

"Please," Haru asked, touching Kotai's flowing sleeve respectfully. "If his captors come to retrieve him before his fellows do, it could be a disaster. They might hold us accountable for his escape. So I'm pleading with you for the sake of this village. Stay until the nin is removed, I beg of you. I'll repay you in any way you ask."

Kotai sneered, looking down at the smaller man and shaking his head slightly. "It's pathetic the way I indulge you, Haru."

Haru blushed and smiled thankfully. He knew this turn of phrase was Kotai's way of saying yes. He turned back to check on the packing he had been placing on the injuries when they had been interrupted, a move that hid the deepening redness of his cheeks.

"His name is Genma," Kakashi said. "He's a good man, so keep taking good care of him. The dogs will stand guard and alert you if anyone approaches. They'll sense intent, so they'll be able to warn you if an attack is coming. They'll also make positive identification of whoever comes to take him; they'll attack and defend him if anyone but a Konoha familiar tries to remove him. Considering the type of injuries he has, you should all be extremely careful of strangers for a while, even after he's been removed. I don't know what he stumbled into, but it wasn't part of his mission."

Haru bowed , and Kakashi set the large white dog and the smaller hound to stand guard outside. The two smallest ninken he left posted inside. Unbeknown to Kotai and Haru, the smaller dogs were there to watch them and assure that they made no false moves, either. But now that they had been educated as to what the dogs were set to react to, any bright ideas they may have had to avoid trouble by dumping Genma outside of the village as soon as he left had just been nipped in the bud.

Kakashi headed out with Pakkun again, shelving his regret at leaving Genma behind. The jounin was still in danger, no doubt about it. But the messenger was swift and the news would reach Tsunade in a few hours. Patrols should be in the area just to the East, although that was not information he was about to divulge to an outlaw nin. Help should reach the senbon expert much sooner than he had let on to Kotai.

He didn't expect to still be in the neighborhood by the time the ninken were free to follow, either. And If he was, he might have some use for the bald nin's help after all.

He followed Iruka's traces, still wondering why they weren't masked; it didn't escape his notice that the trail also followed Genma's blood. Iruka had perhaps diverted to punish those responsible for the jounin's injuries. Genma was a skillful, experienced assassin, difficult to detect and capture, and ferocious when cornered. Judging from the number of defense wounds, he had been in protracted manual combat before he was captured and tortured.

As able as Iruka was, this suggested a very formidable enemy, and the copy-nin couldn't help but feel his protective streak rise up in response.

xxxxx

The blood trail was easy to follow - for Even, that clearly told him a number of things. His new prey, no doubt powerful and dangerous given the evidence on Genma, were not concerned about recapturing the victim or concealing their location. In leaving such a clear and damning swath of evidence, they were confident enough to welcome intruders who might have a predisposition to engage them in battle in response to their abuse of the sandy-haired escapee. They had no apparent worries about being surprised by the timing of that person or group's arrival.

Disregarding an enemy's advantage of surprise would be pure foolishness; it was likely, then, that there was some form of perimeter security and that the area of the blood trail was well-monitored.

Genma's bleeding had slowed as he traveled. Even tried to take a visual measurement of the increasing size of the dark splotches he saw; when he estimated that he'd seen enough to account for most of the ninja's lost fluid volume, he went high into the trees and moved to the limit of his ability to detect the trail.

He crawled the upper level of the branches, creeping with much more interest in remaining undetected than making forward progress.

His patient, painstaking method paid off. He spotted the three men, chakra masked and well-hidden in the underbrush, staking out the blood trail. His intuition had been correct. They were using it to lure in more victims.

After a moment's consideration, he started moving again, leaving those nin to their vigil untouched. He traveled in slow, careful increments. It took nearly an hour to progress out of the sentry's range. He scanned until he found an increase in force, and changed direction slightly. A large, stone turret just cleared a thick screen of evergreens; had he been at ground level, it's camouflaged walls would not have been easily visible. He closed in with care, dropping down a few feet to get a better look.

Three stone buildings were set at angles, creating a triangular courtyard in the middle. No one seemed to be outside, but Even was sure that was not the case. An installation this large would house quite a number of people. The chakra force here, while under a standard detection suppression, was massive.

His fluid plan changed course once more. This was too much trouble, and his odds of being able to grab a lone, unscathed man and get out alive were too long. He began to back away as carefully as he has approached.

An altercation sounded in the near distance, and he felt as much as heard the slap of a missed capture tag. The electrical flare and ground shock turned his head and stopped his retreat. He'd know the signature flash of Kakashi's element from a mile away.

Whatever Kakashi was doing here, he had just made a mistake. The compound's concealment dropped, and red-armored shinobi were beginning to pour out of the doors of the stone buildings.

Even hesitated for a split-second, then committed himself to the fight. With flashing handsigns he skimmed the treetops and landed on the highest point of the building, the roof of the turret.

The door to the roof began to open too late, probably forces coming to man the lookout. But they was foiled by Even's jutsu, slamming and sealing all the doors to the entire compound at once.

A good two dozen shinobi had managed to get out before he locked the rest in. Even hoped that Kakashi had eaten a good breakfast, because the men he saw looked healthy and capable.

It wasn't a dozen seconds before an explosion hurled a chunk or red armor past Even's ear; the copy-nin was fighting fiercely but without distress as far as he could detect. Although he was still out of visual range, the copy-nin's level of controlled chi was strong in the air; he still seemed sure of himself. Another explosion, more red armor…Even deduced that the volume of chakra he'd estimated for the group had far more to do with numbers than the strength of the individuals. Kakashi had scaled down to using tags and projectiles, items with relatively low expenditures of chakra, and had already dispatched with half of his opponents.

Even held his force to keep the doors shut. Kakashi was slicing through the ranks steadily, and the mounting assault on the many doors was beginning to challenge his hold on them.

When Kakashi downed the last man running loose, Even dropped his hold on one door and performed a second jutsu to seal the rest on that building permanently. He nodded to himself in satisfaction. The resulting trickle of nin were no problem for the silver-haired shinobi; as long as Even could control the flow of their numbers, Kakashi could handle them himself.

It seemed like the perfect solution. He would be a stranger within the dark armor, and he might well have a problem convincing Kakashi he had nothing to do with this settlement. He released a door on the second building and sealed the rest for it as well.

The third building's far wall bulged a split-second before stone flew in all directions. A blast from within had succeeded in tearing an opening with ample force to defeat the sealing jutsu. Half of the length of the wall collapsed. Some far more serious looking men charged out, fully armed and clearly equipped for high-level battle. Their armor was heavier and more elaborate. These stronger opponents hatched out from their confines and flew in the direction of the fray.

Even sized them up as he descended and followed just slightly above them, picking them off silently last man first. His first victim went down immediately from the dart in his neck; the second spun and got off one good barrage of chakra leeches before stumbling down to his knees, fighting the drug as he swayed.

The man now bringing up the rear heard something and turned. He was tall, in his early twenties perhaps, upright and fluid in his movement. He had the long, flowing black hair that Even sensed would please Jeninki. His jaw was straight and strong, and his hands moved swiftly in tight coordination.

All this, Even observed in the split second he had before the jutsu launched at him. It didn't surprise him, but it was powerful and swift, and he found himself dodging too many intelligent barbs to be able to stop and strike with his abduction drugs.

He sent a shot of chakra above his head and kept it rising, fooling the majority of the homing projectiles into veering up harmlessly. Two of the barbs went past his shoulder and boomeranged, zeroing in on his torso. They embedded harmlessly in the hard black armor.

Six more swirled around him and he picked them off with the armored plates on his forearm.

It was an effective delay tactic, and the tall ninja sent four razor-edged discs spinning at his opponent in a straight-on attack. A heartbeat later, his other hand lofted up six more of the homing weapons, and they went up in a high arc, curving to fly down at Even from overhead.

Deflecting the discs took precision; they had been thrown with such force spinning at high rpm's, it was likely that a direct hit on the armor might have damaged or perhaps even sliced right through it. By the time he shattered the last one and went to put more distance between himself and his opponent, the taller man had a containment snare unraveling , beginning to form the circle on the ground around him.

Even took the logical path up; he managed to deflect the next rain of descending smart barbs with his armor by twisting his body as he shot up…all but one.

The successful barb spun into the flesh of his jaw through the cloth mask and began working its way penetrate beneath the skin, trying to embed into bone. From the pulse of burning heat, he knew immediately that it was poisoned. He one-handed his dart in reply, so quickly that the subtle motion was concealed from view by his body. It was small and flew unnoticed, and his struggle against the unexpectedly capable attack made it appear that he was completely absorbed in defending himself.

He reached up with his other hand and ripped the barb out, gushing a showy spurt blood. As a distraction, it was first-rate, and the sting of the tiny dart was the first clue the other shinobi had that it had been thrown.

The other nin dropped in flash paralysis. Even still had a brief struggle, the tainted barb had retargeted and began working its way into fleshy palm of the hand that still held it.

He had his man. After dispelling the barb from his hand and disarming it with more chakra then he would have preferred to have spent, he touched a stop to the bleeding as he bent to collect his prize. The rest of the local shinobi were further ahead, engaged in battle with the intruder. He could tell by the ramp-up in electricity that Kakashi was being challenged significantly. It gave him time to properly secure the limp body over his shoulder. This was going to be a little more challenging, since his passenger was quite a bit taller than he was.

The poison in the barb was proving to be slightly beyond his built-up resistance; whether the dosage was too strong or the formulation too different than his body had pre-treated for over the years, he couldn't tell yet. He was sweating from it already, not a good sign. It was slightly harder to hear, and the pain was localizing in the base of his skull. There were too many things going on to stop and address it yet. Men were still shouting, and several heavy impacts shook the ground. He smelled Kakashi's blood, but not a lot of it. He supposed he should at least check on the battle before determining his next move.

He hauled himself back up high and dispatched a stray red-armored nin, surprising him from behind. He had been throwing kunai-like blades down to further pressure Kakashi in his fight. Now his lifeless body fell harmlessly after Even relieved him of his remaining weaponry.

The silver-haired jounin was outnumbered but not necessarily outgunned. His enemy seemed to realized that they shouldn't underestimate him, and were circling around him to divide his attention.

Pakkun was by his master's side, calling out the locations of the enemy to the rear. A coil of chakra wire shot at the ninken from behind, and Kakashi snagged the dog out of the way with split-second timing.

He released Pakkun's summon and the dog disappeared in mid-protest. The distraction of sending Pak away to safety gave the enemy an opening, and they pounced on it.

Sticky black tar shot out and whipped around his legs, and similar snares nearly got his upper body before his charged hands hardened and crystallized the lengths into sparkling, harmless powder. He reached down to do the same for the stuff wrapping his legs and had to divert quickly to fend off a succession of razor-sharp shuriken. Two nin who had worked their way behind him moved in with synchronized handsigns to swell a wave of large rocks up out of the ground and send them crashing down over him.

From his vantage point, Even could see a few more of the lesser, red-armored nin closing in as well. He darted two of them, and decided to take a more active approach. This needed to get resolved so he was free to return home before his condition began to interfere with his movement significantly.

He called up a genjutsu on one of the enemy shinobi as he emerged from cover to check on the stone-covered man. Now appearing to the others as the spitting image of Kakashi, he was caught by surprise and annihilated at once by his own men.

Even nodded, and widened the effect of the genjutsu to the next man, then the next. By the time Kakashi emerged by teleporting and appearing among them, his enemies all looked just like him, and were growing hesitant, unable to tell which one to attack.

But Kakashi, secure in the knowledge that he was the genuine article and able to see through the genjutsu with the sharingan eye anyway, went right to work. The confusion was beautiful, and paired with the jounin's superior powers, he soon had the last of them turning tail and retreating.

The smell of Iruka's blood was close; he was very much aware who his benefactor was.

Now that smell was moving away, heading back in the direction of the trail they had come from.

Kakashi moved swiftly to the buildings and scanned them quickly to look for other torture victims; he found none, but detected that Genma's blood had been spilled in the damaged building; if nothing else, at least they had rousted the right group.

He set tags on all of the structures and leveled the area completely. In spite of his strong desire to get moving, he piled the mortal remains littered about the area and destroyed them with flash fire before starting back after Iruka.

The scent of rarefied poisons were strong in the ROOT shinobi's blood. Kakashi knew it would slow him. If he pushed himself too hard, it might bring him down. He itched to get a visual, to see for himself that Iruka was still all right. He had been like a benevolent ghost, providing back-up and manipulating the odds in Kakashi's favor. The copy-nin cursed in frustration that he hadn't been able to catch so much as a glimpse of those deep brown eyes, setting out again at top speed to remedy that situation.

_tbc_


	19. Chapter 19

_Okay, this is the part where I apologize for taking so long, and for the shortcomings in this chapter. It is being posted up rough to try and keep the momentum going - writing time is scarce right now but the story is not being abandoned. Hopefully things will calm down enough to get back to a smoother flow soon..._

**Chapter Nineteen**

The going was slow, far too slow. The effect of the poison was becoming too difficult to ignore. Still, Even refused to released the straps that secured his captive. Danzou had been quite clear. There was to be no returning empty-handed. He would either make it back with his payload, or he would not make it back at all.

He'd administered the second shot of generic antidote right into the pulsing vein of his own neck, desperate to get his head clear. Danzou had touted the serum as an effective countermeasure against ninety percent of known poisons; but it seemed to have no effect. The misplaced confidence in its effectiveness had caused him to unwisely delay disengaging from the conflict, and served to further increased the odds against him. The pain and the leadening effect on his muscles was still growing.

His options were down to bad and worse. If he kept on as he was, he would last longer, but make insufficient progress to complete his mission at the specified loocation. He would be forced to send a messenger with his coordinates at the point where travel was no longer possible, and it would be up to Danzou to try and fetch his delivery. By that time Even would be close to his own end. Whether or not the master chose to retrieve him as well at that point, the mission itself was at great risk of failure - but a chance of getting the prisoner close enough was just barely better than nothing.

He pulled the soldier pills from his pack, swaying from the effort of staying upright. This was the other option, and the one he now set his jaw in favor of. This would ramp up his energy, and he should just make it in.

It would also amplify the effect of the poison, and there would be no hope of recovery. As soon as he took them, he would be a swiftly-moving corpse.

He had his directive. This was the only method left to complete his mission.

"Don't! Iruka, just wait."

It spoke volumes that Kakashi had been able to come up so close undetected. It gave Even a jolt of worry that the pills might not be enough. He might die mid-step too far away to make the finish.

Kakashi approached him carefully.

"I know it's you, Iruka. Your blood. I'd know it anywhere."

Even nodded. That, too, was a grim indicator just how far he was sinking. He hadn't even wondered how Kakashi knew who he was.

"Put the pills away. It's suicide. Let me help you."

Suicide was not the issue. Completing the mission was. No longer certain the pills would insure success, he held them out in his gloved palm.

Perhaps if he had a few more…

"You have more?" he rasped.

"Hell no, not for you to kill yourself with. It's the poison, it's affecting your brain. Drop your prisoner and…"

"No. I don't have that option." It was looking worse. He could down the pills, but if Kakashi held him up purposely, he might not be able to die close enough to Konoha for Danzou to reach the captive before the short-lived tranquillizer wore off and their catch went free. It was already time to dart his burden again.

The ground was beginning to pitch a little under his feet. Time was running out. Quite the ignominious end to his glorious career in ROOT. He hadn't accomplished a damned thing.

Kakashi flashed handsigns and he was frozen in place. He hadn't expected that at all. Instead of wasting the energy to break out of it, he submitted to it, to see what the man was up to.

Kakashi brought out his own poisons kit, and prepped a syringe with hands so fast Even couldn't decipher the movements with his deteriorating perception. The needle was plunged into the binding fabric of his armor between the belly and breast plates, straight into his abdominal aorta. The pain was exquisite, and the flash of healing to seal the hole from bleeding hurt almost as much. Kakashi's work had a rare quality of desperation to it; Even was staggered as the world turned red, then purple, and all sound vanished beyond the roar in his ears. Sheer strength of will kept him on his feet in spite of his heavy load.

He felt the damage to his organs as the antidote burned the toxins and took a measure of his body's cells along with it. But he sensed that this was the right formula; the progressive poisoning was being stopped.

Kakashi released the freeze and went to catch him by the arm, already moving a hand up to undo the straps on his prisoner.

But Even still had the soldier pills in his palm; he threw them down his throat and swallowed hard.

"Damn it! No!" Kakashi moved his hands to clamp them on Iruka's throat, intent on using his chakra to force him to spit them back up. He barely made it in time.

They came back up into Iruka's hand, and he moved to swallow them again.

"Stop it! Why are you so fucking determined to die?"

"This is a terminal mission." Iruka's hands fought to stay at his face. "There exists…no other…option."

That fucking bastard Danzou, Kakashi raged mentally. So it was a comply or die order - forbidden for obvious reasons - and Iruka was committed to it. If he took the prisoner away and forced Iruka back to the village alive, Danzou's order would require that seppuku be performed before sunset. He detected full commitment with no hesitation on the ROOT shinobi's part.

"Them stop it, damn it. I'll help you get back. With your prisoner. But drop the pills, now!"

"Kakashi…"

"Drop them! Or I'll slit his throat and you'll have mission fail and death. No way in hell am I letting you kill yourself to complete your mission. It's a fucking crime to make assignments like that."

The dark eyes behind the mask looked down for a split second, the only trace of concession he'd gotten so far. They were Iruka's rich, deep brown eyes, not gaudy Uzingan implants. In the urgency of the situation, Kakashi hadn't had time to realize it; he relished the brief moment of relief he felt now.

The armored hand fell and the pills dropped to the ground. A wave of convulsions shook the hard plates on the uniform, but the gaze that came back up to meet his was determined.

"Then get us back, Kakashi. We need to hurry."

"He's coming around."

The small dart seemed to come out of nowhere as Iruka twisted back and stuck the tall shinobi dangling from his shoulder, inspiring his cargo to go completely limp once more. "Now he's not. We need to go."

Kakashi jerked his head around and decided Iruka was right. Company was coming at a high rate of speed from the direction of the fight.

"Yeah. Just try to conserve your energy at first. I promise you we'll make it if you do as I say. For the first hour or so, the more you exert yourself, the more damage the antidote does while it's cleaning out the poison. For every minute you don't rest in the first hour, you pay in reduced mobility afterward. In other words, in the end, if you wait now, you'll get to the village faster than if we set out right away."

Even nodded stiffly. Kakashi was over-explaining and over-simplifying, but he gave him the benefit of the doubt that he was making allowances for his poisoned mind and not merely talking down to him out of old habit.

He was too busy trying to clear his head and make sure the copy-nin wasn't lying to give it much thought.

A strong, wiry arm hauled both the ROOT shinobi and his baggage up to the treetops and hid them away. Kakashi masked their presence, and watched as the bald nin passed below, muttering at having lost the trail.

"You need to choose you friends more wisely," Kakashi jibed quietly, motioning to the man below.

"That has always been one of my shortcomings," Even replied pointedly.

"Touché," Kakashi smirked. "Close your eyes. Concentrate on directing the antidote and minimizing the damage."

Here in the tree, with an paralyzed chaperone hanging off his former lover's shoulder, it was still possible to feel something between the two of them after all this time. He supposed that it might be one-sided…but Kakashi felt what he felt, and it didn't really matter if the circumstances were unpredictably bizarre. Nothing in his life really felt as right as it did when he was protecting Iruka. And somehow, in a twisted blessing, he was given the opportunity again.

The shredded silk that used to cover the lower half of Iruka's face was stiffening with blood. Kakashi removed it and examined the deep wound in Iruka's jaw. Aside from the damage from the weapon, the whole lower half of his face looked like a healing blister. He wondered if it was the effect of the poison on the jutsu-fried face. It looked painful as hell, yet there was no flinch, no reaction at all when he peeled away the cloth and a fair share of damaged tissue along with it. He fished in his vest and produced a tube of healing ointment. Iruka's eyes popped back open at the unexpected feel of the cold gel against the nearly-forgotten sting of his face.

So it seemed that, properly manipulated, Kakashi could be influenced into seeing the mission to a successful end. That was the important thing to Even, far more important than pride or preference to see it through alone. Whatever it took, however it played out, he had to deliver a host safe and sound to Danzou. Kakashi would help him as long as he acted as his friend and called upon their old, deeply personal ties.

The older man had been bloated with guilt and regrets since that failed rescue so long ago. Here was his opportunity to make things right. Truthfully, it was the only thing left that the copy-nin could have done than was meaningful. This meant the world to Even.

Literally.

"Kakashi," he whispered, voice thin with the effect of the warring drugs in his system. He lifted a hand to touch the masked cheek of his savior. The slight pull of muscles against his fingertips told him that Kakashi had smiled at that.

"It's all right. Just hold on and give it a little more time." The slim fingers were incredibly gentle, applying the healing substance very slowly. Touching Iruka was deeply disrupting, no matter the condition of his flesh or the situation they were in. No matter how long he put the world on hold to trace glistening fingers on this strong jaw line, it couldn't possibly be long enough.

There would be a moment of reckoning, when they hit the Konoha perimeter. He would have to render the prisoner useless as a host for the eyes. And somehow make sure Iruka wasn't made to pay the alternative price. His brain was working overtime on the problem, only stuttering when Iruka's black-gloved fingertips came back to his face and traced his features again. The implied intimacy gave him a surge of regret. No matter if they made peace to some degree here, it would all be thrown over again when he betrayed Iruka by sabotaging his mission.

Time ticked by, and the bald nin passed again going back in the other direction. Giving up, Kakashi guessed.

"Time's about up, Ru," Kakashi said. Iruka stiffened and swung his leg over to dismount from his perch, careful not to let his prisoner hit against anything as they descended. Kakashi was right behind him, ready to spot him if he lost balance. The pain was coming off of him in waves, but he was steady, moving with energy once more.

"Take it easy. You should let me do the carrying."

"Can't. But thanks. You can head out and finish whatever you were doing, Kakashi. I can make it back now." His survival was assured, and no matter the effort, he would make it back.

"You're still in bad shape. You run across any trouble and you're done for. I'll escort you back."

"All right." Even tensed a bit, deciding not to argue, considering the determined tone of that statement. He was in no condition to fight with Kakashi right now. He would have to conserve his strength in order to have enough left to ditch his escort at the village perimeter.

They traveled at a fair rate of speed. Kakashi tried to influence Iruka into slowing down, with no luck.

"So, ROOT suits you after all, I guess."

"It's clean. Precise. Direct. Quiet. Almost perfect."

"And solitary. Seems to be your preference these days."

"True."

"It's good that we can still work together. Different divisions, but we're still on the same team."

"It won't happen again."

Kakashi's goodwill pulled up short on that. "I know."

After their long hours, Iruka ignoring his pain and Kakashi paying too much attention to it, they grew closer to Konoha's perimeter.

Both men knew they were about to turn on the other, for the noble cause given them by their superiors.

Iruka pulled up short.

"Kakashi," he said, slightly out of breath. He swallowed hard, surreptitiously taking the soldier pill he had retained in his sleeve to fuel him at the home stretch. "Wait."

Concerned by the sudden slump in his companion's posture, the copy-nin was at his side at once.

"We probably won't be seeing each other for a long time now. We should take the time to really say goodbye." Iruka's voice was a husky whisper, low and meaningful. It cut straight to Kakashi's heart.

Black-gloved fingertips moved to touch his face slowly, in a sweetly intimate gesture.

Kakashi grabbed Iruka's wrist harshly to stop the movement, scowling. Distracted by the words, he almost missed them: the quickly formed handsigns, concealed off to the side of the brunette's body, that would have made that intimate touch deadly. The jutsu would have arrested his breathing until it was released. Iruka had meant to either incapacitate or kill him.

At this point, he was not sure which.

"Bastard," Kakashi growled. His free hand went to his utility vest and yanked out a tag to slap on the unconscious prisoner. He no longer felt a need for subtlety.

Even counterattacked with unexpected strength and speed, spinning and running backwards while sending up a cloud of blinding dust. Kakashi was heavily dependent on his eyes in battle, and the unfriendly effect of the powdery particles forced him to keep skipping over preferred jutsu to come up with something suitable. Even's odd dust screen was so dense and invasive it obliterated all signs of him, including sound and scent. it was his back-up plan if he failed to render the copy-nin unconscious with the breath-stealing jutsu.

By the time Kakashi got free of it, discovering it was wrapped around him like a cocoon as opposed to covering the entire area, Iruka was gone.

xxxxxxxx

"You made it!" Danzou was in the large training room when Even appeared with his payload. "Give him to me, now!" At a glance, it was clear that Even was in bad shape, far from being useful in the next step.

Even wordlessly obeyed, pulling the release to the strap and letting the body down carefully onto the steel table.

Danzou shoved him back in his haste. "Get out of the way. Wait here and pull yourself together, I may need you. If they trespass here, you know what to do." The old curmudgeon wrapped his arms around the silent form on the table and teleported them both away.

Even stood with both hands braced on the edge of the table. It was a curious experience to complete a successful mission now. It used to be something he sought after, something that gave him a sense of self-worth and that elusive 'good' feeling.

Now it just revived the slightly edgy feeling of being out of service, of being useless, however temporary.

This whole thing would not have been very pleasant if he still had the full compliment of emotions, that was for sure.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Kakashi had an excellent idea where Iruka had teleported to, but he knew he was not authorized to pursue him there - yet. He did his own teleporting, and ended up in Tsunade's office, pissing her off royally as he startled the ANBU guards into nearly attacking and making her spill her coffee.

"Brat! What the hell? This better be important! Speak!"

"Iruka's back, he has a prisoner, he teleported in."

"Shit! When?"

"Just now. Less than a minute ago. We need to move."

"Right. Why the hell didn't you stop him?"

"I tried. He got away."

"Tell Ibiki's sentry first. He's stationed on the roof of the house in a direct line from the northeast corner of the fence. You can go in alone or wait for backup, but if you wait, don't wait long."

Kakashi's answer was to teleport away.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Even had lowered himself to the floor, waiting on hands and knees for the dizziness to pass from his extreme exhaustion. The soldier pill's potency had been damaged from being dampened with saliva and then smashed in his sleeve; the power-up effect was spent already. His chakra had been disrupted by the poison and the antidote; both had been amplified by the stimulant, and teleporting with a passenger had still taken tremendous effort.

When Kakashi came barreling in, he lifted his head and adjusted the half-mask that he had been thinking about removing. It was stuck fast in several places.

"Where is he? Where the fuck is he, Iruka?"

"Trespassing doesn't become you," Even said.

"Answer me!"

"Honestly, I don't know. Not that I would tell you if I knew. I would not. But in this case, I simply do not know."

Kakashi's mind rifled through the possibilities, but didn't come up with a likely place to search. "It's over, Iruka. Whether he succeeded in saving the eyes or not, it's over."

Ibiki flashed into the room and shared a unfriendly greeting with the copy-nin.

Even grew far more wary. Kakashi he could handle with the right play of emotional words, but Ibiki…would be far more difficult.

"Iruka. Where is Danzou? Where has he gone with the man you brought here?" Ibiki snarled.

"News travels that fast?" Even asked, voice clear of the abject weariness permeating his soul. "You may have tipped you hand."

"Not hiding it at this point. Where are they, Umino? Where are the eyes?"

"Eyes? Most of the eyes I know of are in the heads that make use of them. You'll have to be more specific. Whose eyes?"

"Don't play stupid with me."

"You wouldn't possibly be referring to disembodied eyes. The ones Danzou has preserved? In the cabinet, I know of a pair there. But no one would have any interest in…"

Ibiki tore open the cabinet doors. Floating with their nerves waving like jellyfish tentacles in the suspension liquid, two eyeballs rested in a corked wide-mouth beaker.

He pulled them out, looking closely, and sent his chakra exploring. These were the eyes of someone who had lived a very long time, still holding cold traces of residual chakra. Unless the Uzingan had expired and died in them, this was not what he was looking for.

"Where did these come from?"

"They belong to Danzou. You should ask him when he returns."

Ibiki stalked over to Iruka and ripped the half-mask from his face, holding the beaker up belligerently with the other. The wet tearing sound of the material ripping away from the malleable flesh made Kakashi wince inside. Outwardly, he stood unmoved, backing up Ibiki without question.

Even's face was tugged sideways from the motion, but his expression remained frozen.

"Look properly. What you seek is in your hands." He touched the glass with his index finger, and Ibiki held it up to look closer.

"You should see it too, Kakashi," he said calmly, drawing himself up to full height in spite of his weary, ravaged condition. "Set your mind at ease. Show him, Morino."

Kakashi stepped forward, watching Iruka for any false moves, and Ibiki held out the container to him with a half turn, nodding.

He went to take it, and as soon as his hand touched the glass, a jolt shot through his body. Now the two men both had hands on the beaker, and the power that pulsed from it confused him momentarily. For a split-second, it seemed to be confirmation that this was the powerful set of objects that they sought.

But the sudden inability to move away gripped him, and when his gaze lifted in dismay, he caught the very same look in Ibiki's dark eyes.

"You'll need to wait here, gentlemen. I can't afford the time for a visit, although I could use the rest. I truthfully do not know where Danzou has gone. I do have some educated guesses, though, and now you've given me the motivation to follow up on them." Even went to the cabinet and opened a black tin, plucking two soldier pills from within and swallowing them down with a glance at Kakashi. The copy-nin was watching him now. He pocketed the tin and strode to Ibiki, plucking his mask back from the frozen fingers. He slapped it back on his face, carelessly adhering it with a shot of chakra in apparent disregard for the effect that would have on his flesh. "Don't go anywhere. Stay as you are."

He turned his back to them before making the handsigns to teleport away to prevent Kakashi from following if he managed to break free, He knew the charmed object wouldn't hold them forever, but it should hold them for a while.

When he appeared in Ugoi's flat, the old man's dead body was there laid out on the kitchen counter to greet him, validating this guess as to where they had gone to complete the procedure undisturbed. His eyes were shut, and Even easily detected that what filled the sockets were the loosely placed discarded orbs from the abducted ninja. They must have had success.

The kitchen table was shoved up at a right angle to the counter, with the sink at the junction point. This second makeshift operating table was empty. Even moved it back to its proper place in the center of the dining area and carefully moved the corpse to the bedroom, settling him on the bed to make the scene appear more natural. There was no reason to advertise the man's part in this. It concerned him that Danzou had not taken these steps. With a flash of chakra he seated the eyes more naturally in the sockets and affixed them so that they would seem to belong there. Certainly, one of the first things anyone coming upon the motionless body would do is lift the lids to check the eyes for signs of reaction.

On impulse, thinking back on Jeninki's eccentricities, he opened the top of the old man's robe. There, on the upper chest, was a slip of paper.

He closed the robe and shook his head as he checked the note. Jeninki was incautious beyond excuse.

The note was in ragged handwriting.

_Loyal one: come beyond these walls to our sunset._

It was scarcely cryptic; any pre-genin could figure out their meeting place was located outside the west wall. With swift handsigns, Even shifted by teleport to lurk just outside the old council chamber.

"Iruka, you couldn't wait. I'm touched. This is one marvelous body you've found for me. I must commend you. It will last a good fifty years at least; a hundred if I'm diligent in preventing it from aging. I get a little lazy and forget sometimes. You know, it happens." Jeninki dropped from his perch on the tree-shrouded roof.

He landed and staggered a bit; Even reached out and steadied him automatically.

"Where is Master Danzou?"

"Danz? He's inside, preparing his excuses. We were making a proper doppelganger of this body, set to detonate rather spectacularly when your fellow Konoha nins burst in on it. By then I'll be long gone."

"Gone, but it best not be for long," Danzou growled from the doorway. "Remember that you've vowed to work with me if I made this happen for you."

"Mmm…yes, I did. And I will. But you may have to come to me at first. I need to make sure that my village base is in order before I summon my subjects back." Jeninki was unsteady physically, but quite self-secure otherwise. "And I will be taking Iruka. I'm exercising my jurisdiction in this matter."

"The hell you will. Even, come away from him."

"Take off your mask, Iruka. There's no need. You've proved your worth, and you've proved to yourself that there's no where else you belong. You can come with me now, with a clear conscience. I have that freedom you crave, the limitless life you're primed for. This man has done a fine job turning you into his servant. You've never been in such utter subjugation as you are now. Once I release you, you'll see that."

Even released Jeninki carefully, so as not to make him fall, and went obediently to stand by Danzou.

A gnarled, cold hand clasped the back of his neck in approval. "Excellent, Even. Excellent."

"Means nothing," Jeninki said, unfazed. "I haven't released him from your manipulations yet. It's his knee-jerk reaction now, but not for long."

"It was my duty. You were meant to be an ally of Danzou's, and of Konoha. Resurrecting you per my orders was only to that end," Even said flatly.

"And you picked this exquisitely attractive body accidentally? Not because you planned to reap the benefit of it?"

"It was the first fit male shinobi body I was able to secure unharmed. Nothing else."

"Liar. You're lying to yourself, though. I think you might believe it. But look at me, Iruka, truly look at me. Tell me what you see."

"Stop!" Danzou flung a hand in front of Even's face. "Don't look him directly in the eyes. Ever."

Jeninki snickered. "You're just delaying the inevitable. And may I remind you, that since he came looking, there was a problem? They'll be here soon. Is the doppelganger set-up ready?"

"Of course it is. What is the situation, Even?"

"Kakashi, and then Ibiki, came in to search. I placed them in temporary suspension."

Danzou's amusement leaked out in a short gust of air. "That is impressive. They must be mortified. I am well pleased with your performance, Even. Mission success. And your follow-up with Morino and Hatake was inspired. You've out-shined them all. We're spinning it that way, you know. My excuse. We'll destroy the doppelganger for show as soon as they appear. And we'll have them take us before Tsunade. And we'll tell her it was all an elaborate ruse, to test them and their stodgy skills against the first New ROOT shinobi. And to prove to them that ROOT can once again take its place as the number one black ops force for the village. She will be forced to admit to the defeat of her precious right-hand men. You've beaten them at their own game. Jeninki will hide away and assist us from the shadows. We will rise to dominance and finally keep this village safe in a reasonable, civilized manner."

Even kept Jeninki in his peripheral vision.

"I do have to go. You know where I'll be. You know the way still, don't you , Iruka?"

"I cannot forget."

"Ah, I really like the way you said that." With that, Jeninki leaned back and seemed to dissolve into the shadows, disappearing without a trace.

"Reckless show-off! He shouldn't have enough chakra to walk. But somehow, he managed to leach some off of me while I was preparing the diversion." Danzou stabbed a gnarled finger accusingly in the direction of the departed shinobi.

"Then he wouldn't have had enough to use the eyes on me."

"Don't make that mistake. He is not your Kakashi, a person coping with another's implanted ability. He has full possession of that body, and they are his own eyes and bloodline limit. If he's got the life force for breathing, he's able to use the Uzingan to some degree, and the drain on his chakra is minimal."

"And he has actually agreed to be an ally of Konoha?"

Danzou's face tightened further in wrinkles of dark anger. "Shut up now. It's not your place to question my methods or my motives. You'll know what you need to know when you need to know it. You've no right to hear more."

"I apologize, Danzou-sama," Even lowered his gaze.

"Never mind that now. We'll have company soon. You'll say nothing about Jeninki, understand? Nothing. Let me do all the talking. "

_tbc_


	20. Chapter 20

_Slowly but surely we're getting closer to the end. You have my boundless gratitude for hanging in here for so long; and for the reviews, which really do help to keep things going. Thanks!_

**Chapter Twenty**

The staged explosion, wet with genuine internal organs and bodily fluids, splattered the already edgy pursuing shinobi and propelled their displeasure with Danzou into new heights. Getting free from the embarrasingly simple object trap that delayed them, they blundered yet again by barging swiftly into the old chamber building for the advantage of surprise, only to find that element firmly on the side of their quarry.

The cagey old elite appeared before them with a bold flourish and waxed eloquent and angry, his speech wandering from boasting to accusing and back again as he berated the men Even had bested, railing about the new order about to take the forefront of the village's safekeeping.

Mid-rant they all transported to the Hokage's chamber, the way cleared for them by Tsunade's ANBU. They had been summoned to the scene by Ibiki as back-up and instead ended up with little to do but facilitate their meeting.

Even went too, as Exhibit A in the new order. It was not a real secret that he was the ninja in the dark armor now that the uniform was identified as ROOT , seeing as he was the only man authorized by the village to legally carry that title.

Ibiki was secretly impressed and Kakashi concealed his worry and surprise that Iruka was still going, still putting up a formidable front that gave no hint at his true condition.

It was all pomp and show; Danzou's words convinced them of very little except his ability to defend his actions in such as way as to still leave a legal reasonable doubt in regards to his guilt. Only the fact that they had witnessed the explosion gave any weight to the idea that he had indeed destroyed the body he had forced Iruka to deliver to him, nearly at the cost of his life. Such a callous, wasteful method of testing Iruka's loyalty unto death was entirely consistent with the Danzou they knew.

They were not as convinced that the eyes perished as well. But that subject stood as unacknowledged as the fabled Emperor's lack of clothes. As it preyed on every mind, it fell from no one's lips - in public.

Danzou was equally unconvinced that Kakashi had stumbled upon Iruka by chance, but held his tongue on that subject as well. He raged inside when Tsunade would guarantee no more than 'consideration' of his demand to resume the establishment of ROOT, disregarding his grudging offer to replenish his forces in a less provoking manner. This time he conceded that, given Even's success, he could restrict himself to selecting from candidates of more traditional training age. He'd decided there was no chance that she would allow him to resume arranging for the acquisition of shinobi-heritage stock through villagers bearing implanted fetuses, as had been his plan when ROOT was placed on hold previously. The perfection of ROOT ninja raised from birth under his regimented care would have to wait until he no longer needed her approval.

He was banking heavily on Jeninki's extremely valuable mortality-related talents to add to his vitality and longevity. Thirty years ago, nearly dying from wounds and the ravages of old age, his senpai Jeninki had deemed him worthy and gifted him with another forty years of lifespan and reversed his natural age by several decades. Behind the bandages of his permanent injuries, the change in appearance was concealed and went unnoticed. Now age was dogging his heels again, and in order to live long enough to raise these fetal fighters as pure ROOT virtuosos, he would need another shot of the youth and extension of lifespan.

The way things stood, Jeninki would likely try to force him to hand over Even before he would make good on his promises. It was petty beyond excuse as far as Danzou was concerned. The revival of his superior fighting force was far more important than some stubborn whim of the Uzingan-wielder. If Even disappeared for good and the news made its way to her, Tsunade would likely suppress the program permanently. The very fountain of youth would do him no good in that case.

It was a dilemma he had yet to think of a way to address.

In the end, they were released without sanctions, and the only concession made by the miffed Hokage was that Iruka would not be pulled from this 'pilot' program. Even followed Danzou out of the tower and they walked to the old man's place silently. Even was weary but walked tall and gave no outward sign of his discomfort. When they arrived in the privacy of the training room, Danzou pinned him with a narrowed eye and asked hard questions about his mission, venting his anger and frustration by giving the raw-faced nin a first taste of his intense style of completed-mission debriefing. He was disapproving, and berated Even for saving Shiranui and getting mixed up in Kakashi's battles. He shook a finger in Even's face with the assertion that the minute Kakashi revealed his knowledge of Even's old identity, Even should have slain him; if not on the spot, then as soon as his usefulness to the mission was spent.

He ordered Even to disrobe and lie naked on the steel table to reaffirm his unquestioning obedience. He enjoyed watching the firm yet velvety flesh as it was revealed, the warm skin stiffening as it came in contact with the icy cold metal. This man was powerful, skilled and cunning; yet his words had the ability to control him in every way, and the power was exhilarating. Even's chakra screamed from the damage of poisons, toxic antidotes, disruptive soldier pills and projectile wounds. Yet, he remained compliant and impassive, silently moving to do only as he was bid by his superior.

The good feeling passed suddenly; reality reminded him harshly that these little moments might be numbered. Danzou mulled the confrontations of the day over in his head irritably. It had become something more than just bad faith negotiation in the tug of war over Even; Tsunade, the ultimate hag herself, had shown more integrity than Jeninki did in the matter. At least she had the foresight to let him continue as he was. He had no doubt that she'd recognized how good ROOT had been for the man, what a remarkable specimen he'd become, and how unfair it would be to take it away from him now.

It was irritating to him personally that Jeninki was asserting ownership over the dark-eyed shinobi in spite of all that. Another cruel irony, Danzou reflected. Once he received another aging reversal, he would be in a good position to make use of Even as the perfect personal companion on demand. He rather fancied the idea of the way the two of them would look together as contemporaries. The elements of obedience, unflinching pain tolerance and damn fine physique all came together in Even, and it was exactly what Danzou desired. Yet Jeninki was unlikely to grace him with the necessary youth if he refused to give up his perfectly prepared student.

Even may have been expressionless, but he was far from idle in his thoughts. To kill Konoha's flagship jounin was the goal of every vile enemy of Leaf; try as he might, Even's moral compass could not hope to explain with any satisfaction Danzou's adamant criticism of his letting the copy-nin live. Especially in light of the fact that he had been the instrument for saving the mission and, however unwittingly, the Uzingan. Further insight rendered him unable to answer questions about what he would do if Danzou ordered him to kill Kakashi without justification. Even knew full well that his training and diligence might find him besting the silver-haired shinobi at times, but when he factored in their mission histories and relative worth overall, any math that made his life worth more was flawed. Kakashi's track record and experience outweighed any advanced technique or innovation as new Root. Between the two of them, the impartial light of logic revealed Even to be the more expendable.

In the chill silence of the training room, his own stiffly controlled breathing and Danzou's louder, heavier respiration created the background of sound against the shuffle of robes. The old man's hands roamed his body, infusing a little healing chakra here and there, but mostly just roaming for its own sake.

Those hands were suddenly unwelcome. Until those questionable criticisms of his rescue of one loyal shinobi, and of his reluctance to murder another, Even had taken whatever his master had given with a sense of duty and respect. Now, suspicion began to creep in, as he struggled to excuse the apparent disloyalty. By following orders to remain mute, he had contributed to the tangle of lies that were told today to the Hokage. And now, this sort of unprofessional self-indulgence on the old man's part did not help matters.

"You'll be my escort tomorrow, Even-kun," Danzou said with a barely detectable smile, determined to bolster his own confidence. He wasn't beaten yet, and Jeninki was not his enemy. They might work out some kind of acceptable compromise. As tempting as it was to take advantage of this situation to the fullest in case this was his last opportunity, the old man preferred to think that he would prevail somehow. It would be much better to wait until he had plenty of power and stamina; much, much better.. His voice was low and syrupy, alluding to thoughts other than the ones he spoke aloud. "We must have our first consultation with Jeninki. I should let you rest up until then. Your chakra is a mess."

Even nodded, hoping Danzou meant it. He was surprised to find that he did. Gnarled, cold hands helped him off the table to guide him to the room Ugoi had slept in last. The door closed, leaving him alone, confused at the sudden respectable behavior.

Maybe the poisons had scrambled his thinking. He hadn't had cause to doubt his master before. He passed into exhausted sleep, uncertain what the morning would bring.

XxXxxXxxXxx

"You're letting this go on? What happened to all that crap about bringing Iruka back to us? We had him back, and we had all the damned reason in the world to put a stop to this!" Kakashi raged.

"Shut up, Hatake," Ibiki growled. "You're out of line."

"You know as well as any of us, Kakashi, that nothing is over. Danzou is obviously in the midst of something, something we haven't quite figured out yet. He needs Iruka for whatever it is. You saw the way he gloated over him. So we need Iruka, too, right where he is. He's our focal point. Follow him to find out his goal, and from that we will find Danzou's." Those commanding words came easily enough, unlike the difficult sight of Iruka in ROOT persona. While he was intensely aware of everything discernable about his former colleagues, in the sharp, attentive way a talented shinobi, Iruka reacted only to Danzou. Tsunade's greeting had been acknowledged mechanically and his eyes held no warmth of recognition. She was a familiar suspicious object in his mind, as far as she could tell. His initiation had been a complete success, and it was sad to see him in such a way. To have subjected him to so much without seeing it through to the end seemed the larger evil to her. The damage done, only a beneficial end could hope to take some of the sting out of the price the former sensei had paid.

"They make a dangerous team. Aren't you giving them a little too much rope? Eventually, Iruka will succeed at whatever task Danzou's setting for him. And we don't know what that task might be." Kakashi tried again to convince her, making the effort to be composed.

"The answer is to find out what that task is before he completes it. That's why I assigned this to you in the first place. Get the hell out there and keep an eye on them, and find out! I let this little charade go on precisely for that purpose. It would be ridiculous to just cut off the whole operation now, before we've actually reached any sort of conclusion. You need to resolve this. We need to get his plan out in the open before he can strike." Tsunade shook her head, frowning. "And remember, you must use the utmost care and concentration. We came within a hair's breadth of having a fatality on your team already, Ibiki."

"My summary investigation is complete on that matter, it's about the only piece of good news we've got so far. There's no sign that Shiranui's injuries had anything to do with Iruka. From the evidence, and from the interviews with the men we retrieved him from, it does seem that Iruka's only role in this was rescuer. There's no question that he would have died without help." Ibiki remained impassive as he gave her that news, hiding his still surprisingly intense relief that the facts and circumstances clearly showed that Iruka had not been Genma's assailant.

"He went after the culprits immediately. Between the two of us, we pretty much erased them. I…"

"And I haven't seen that report yet!' Tsunade barked.

Kakashi ignored that. She knew he'd had no time, she was just giving him shit. "…I know he helped me when he easily could have, hell, should have taken off instead. What I'm saying is that he may be ROOT-trained, but he's not completely brainwashed. He still has some of his priorities straight. He's not going to march in here and try to cut all of our heads off just because he's been ordered to."

Tsunade sat back in her chair at that and tapped her fingertips together in deep thought. She began nodding slowly.

"Through all of this, that's the one factor I have not dared to rely on. When I look at Umino's life from day one, I see a man with many, many reasons to have turned away from his commitments. And yet, as you say, his superior moral compass has been, and continues to be, an important factor. It probably forces Danzou to be quite circumscribe. If he makes an overtly treasonous order, he might have a mutiny on his hands."

"From what I've seen, he's on the edge. He will fight me if need be, I'm sure of that. But still…" Kakashi shook his head grimly. Set against one another like pit bulls raised for fighting, each doing as their master bid, he and Iruka could be called upon to tear each other to bits…and under the right circumstances, it was well within the bounds of possibility.

"Understood. Your watch is still posted, Morino?"

"Twenty-four seven, two-man team, one ANBU one messenger. Any move they make, the messenger will get word to us while my ANBU addresses the situation, be it tracking them or what have you." Still standing with his arms folded in a braced, stiff stance, Ibiki was clearly still on high alert. "The perimeter monitors are keeping me notified of any unscheduled egress at well." He patted the two-way radio on his belt in illustration.

"For the time being, this is still your number one priority, men. Ibiki, I leave it to you if you want to backfill behind Genma. Be sure to have Kakashi continue as point man on any pursuit; make sure the ANBU know to yield to him in any action once he joins in."

Ibiki nodded, looking at Kakashi with a shielded expression. He still didn't like the man, but professionally that was not going to factor here. Kakashi's abilities in tracking were likely unbeatable for tracking Iruka. He had long experience and talent as a tracker, and a sixth sense where Umino was concerned. There was no better choice here.

"Now, men, get out there and get to the bottom of this. Dismissed."

xXXxxXXxxXXx

The next morning they set out as soon as the two of them were dressed and able; Danzou was a little under the weather and was much slower to get ready. They teleported to the chamber outside the walls, then again to the near distance under cover of the forest.

"So this is the way. I had nearly forgotten. I had always featured his dynasty as something a little more to the south, I guess," Danzou said chattily.

Even glanced at his master but said nothing. While Danzou was casual, seeming to be certain that Tsunade's forces were off their tail, Even was unable to understand why he would think so. He had advised his superior that they should take all precautions to travel undetected, but had been ignored. It worried him a little more. Danzou wasn't himself, exactly, and he'd been feeling poorly. The possibility of a stroke or the first signs of some cognitive aging disease arose in Even's pondering. His master was usually cautious, overly suspicious.

"We should move discreetly, Danzou-sama," Even said softly.

"No, Even, there's no need. If we're followed, it won't be by some army, it will just be a man or two. That's all." Was that concern for his well-being he detected in his steely apprentice's manner? Danzou was charmed in spite of himself. How was it that this ethereal element of humanity remained alive with no emotion to fuel it? Even truly was a treasure; he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that he'd wormed his way into his plans so prominently.

"You don't care if they report back with word of where we're going, who we're seeing?" Even asked, shaking his head in confusion. Did Danzou want to reveal Jeninki's revival, along with his return to the place where Kakashi had beheaded him?

"You don't know him like I do, Even; there's no need to overthink this. He wasn't entirely himself when you knew him. If we're discovered, no word will be getting back to anyone. Let them follow. They will never be able to reveal a thing."

When that sank in, it was a relief to know that Danzou's think was clear…but just as disturbing to realize that he thought eliminating any shinobi who tracked them was acceptable.

They passed without comment further along the way, until they sat to rest for a moment and Danzou laid a hand on Even's sturdy shoulder.

"Soon we'll be able to spar and do some working out together. I truly am looking forward to that."

"I will be honored to learn from your experience," Even said solemnly, certain that the man who founded ROOT would have enviable combat skills, but not sure if the aging man was thinking straight when he proposed something so strenuous.

Danzou began to snicker, then began laughing out loud, shaking his head.

"You are so damned ROOT," he chortled. "You'll be honored all right. I'll teach you things you've never conceived of. Trust me on this one."

The double-entendre was not lost on Even - and it was not welcome. The more he weighed Danzou's behaviors and decisions against the greater good of the village, the more suspect the older man's motives became. At such a crucial point in his plan to provide for stability and security through the resurrection of his black ops force, was there really any excuse for being so cavalier?

And the constant conflict with Jeninki made little sense. The man had been in jail for killing those men, or for delinquent mission payments, either way…what actions had Jeninki taken that evidenced any benefit to Konoha? When he tried to question the wisdom of reviving the man and his bloodline limit, Danzou shut him down. Was there truly some grand, noble plan Danzou held so close to the vest that he would not reveal it?

Or was he up to something less than legitimate? Had Tsunade been taken in at first? Ever? She obviously had doubts now. Kakashi and Ibiki had treated them like enemies, or at the very least, suspects.

And Danzou clearly was not surprised by that. If anything, he seemed to have been expecting it.

It was a good time to be confronting Jeninki, in Even's opinion. He was determined find out just where all of this was leading. And he no longer assumed that, in the final analysis, Danzou's plans were going to be in Konoha's best interest.

As they made their way, still with far less stealth than Even though wise, these doubts has plenty of time to run circles in his head. Their progress at Danzou's speed was slow, and the longer it took, the more focused Even became on seeing Jeninki and resolving the doubts. It would seem grimly consistent with his life experience and entirely too possible that things were not what they seemed. That he would find out now, after giving up every thing he had and every shred of what he was to become something of value, it had all been nothing but a worthless lie.

xxxxxxx

"Shit, can they go any slower?" grumbled Pakkun, having to stop and wait yet again so they didn't get too close to their prey.

"Patience, Pak. Look, if they keep going at this rate, I'll dismiss you. Konohamaru could track these guys today."

"They want to be followed."

"Quite possibly," Kakashi agreed.

"It's a trap."

"Also, quite possible."

"It's really them. Both of them."

"I know."

"Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad the teacher helped you get those guys that hurt Genma. That's about the worst thing I ever saw one of you humans survive. You'll take that into account, won't ya? When you're deciding what to do with him?"

"You don't have to worry about him, Pak. We set him up for this. No one's going to hold anything against him that he does under Danzou's orders."

"Except the teacher."

"Mm. Yeah, he'll beat himself up enough for the all of us if the son of a bitch makes him do wrong. So far he's done all right, though. Maybe he's outsmarting the old coot already."

"I think they're taking a nap."

"Wiseass. Come on, they're far enough, let's move up a ways. Unless you'd rather go. Doesn't look like this is going be exciting anytime soon."

"Eh, I have nothing better to do. And you shouldn't let your guard down. He is pretty screwed up. Things could happen."

"Do you think he knows it?"

"That he's screwed up?" Pakkun considered that. "Well…do you?"

"Know that he's screwed up? Yeah. Of course."

"No. That you are."

Kakashi started to glare, then softened. Pakkun was not being flippant. He was gruffly sincere; so Kakashi responded in kind.

"Yeah. I know."

"Then he probably knows that about himself, too. And you both know about each other. With all the shit I've seen you guys put each other through, it's the only explanation for why you haven't killed each other yet." Pakkun snorted. "You have complementary psychosis."

"If you ever get tired of being a ninken, I think there's a career waiting for you as one of those shrinks on the radio," Kakashi smiled.

"Radio sex therapist," Pakkun countered haughtily. "Might as well showcase my REAL natural talents."

"Will you two shut the fuck up?" Ibiki grumbled. Unprofessional, about as stealthy as a startled skunk, and talking about a relationship Ibiki would outlaw if he had the authority. Yes, this was the true Kakashi, and it was plucking at his last nerve again.

Pakkun quieted, but the copy-nin was not impressed.

"What's your damage, Morino? You don't think you're going to be pulling rank on me, do you? The way I see it, you've go no rank to pull. I'm the lead on this gig. You can follow me. And keep your eyes off my ass while you do it."

"Is there some particular reason you'd like me to tear your face off? Tired of the mask?" Ibiki growled.

"You're confusing me with someone else. Get us mixed up in your wet dreams sometimes? I'm flattered."

"Grow up. You act like you're on holiday. We're on a very serious mission. Your attitude is disappointing."

"I'm not here to live up to any expectations of yours. You had your shot and you blew it."

Ibiki's upper lip curled in disgust at the memory. Rather that continue the pointless bickering, he started off in the direction of their target, sifting through his memories of those fateful days when he turned Iruka's life around and freed him from being wet-nurse to the endless stream of snot-nosed shinobi. It hadn't been an easy road for the man, he'd admit that, but he was quite sure that the strength and capabilities he'd acquired more than made up for any pitfalls along the way. Once he was retrieved from Danzou's service and reassimilated, Iruka should be in the very top echelon of the shinobi ranks, a position enviable for any man. It was yet to be seen if he would remember to credit Ibiki with starting him on that path. Perhaps he would rethink joining up with the ANBU. Having seen Iruka's incomparable purity of character, Ibiki would relish having him in his ranks.

That little issue they had with trust was probably water under the bridge by now.

"Hold up. I'm lead, remember?" Kakashi said, a little less snippy.

"Then lead and I won't have to," Ibiki said flatly.

They moved on in silence now. Pakkun was relieved that the growling hadn't escalated into more than just a bark or two. Humans could be so unpredictable.

_tbc_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"We're close now, Danzou-san," Even said quietly, a slight tightness in his chest at the sight of the crumbling amphitheater.

"I know. I've been here myself, Even. Did you not fully realize?"

He blinked at those words, and at all that the statement implied. Since Danzou had known of this place, then he had likely known of the legion of dead. No matter that the souls remained with Jeninki and were not truly at rest; they had been made to forfeit their human lives, and their bodies were clearly only corpses. It should have been investigated and ruled upon as to whether this was mass-murder. Yet, the only thing that had brought Jeninki into custody and put an end to his poaching had been his misuse of a forged mission contract to secure two of the victims. For however long Danzou was aware of Jeninki's 'village', he was guilty of complicity in the effort. To a degree, his collusion made possible the event that took Even's face, and forever changed his life.

Little of redeeming value in any of the ROOT endeavors had been revealed so far, despite paying close attention and gleaning more facts here and there in an attempt to put the puzzle together. The grand plan that justified orders such as lying to the Hokage, executing Konoha nins who interfered, leaving wounded comrades to die…what exactly was it? The revelation he expected had never come. More and more, it seemed impossible that any of this could be of benefit to the village. What was Danzou's secret motive behind restoring the man who had taken the lives of so many? What assurance was there that he wouldn't take up where he left off?

The man in question had already sensed their approach, and met them as they began to descend into the amphitheatre. It was provoking, the sight of the tall, dark-haired figure ahead of them at the base of the age-worn stairs. It gave Even a stab of memory from the first time he traveled this way, struggling to keep up in his exhaustion and poor condition as Jeninki had bolted down the steps ahead of him. His stamina was no longer wanting and the situation was very different; both men had undergone drastic changes in their appearance. But the Uzingan user's aura was instantly recognizable, virtually the same as it had been that last time they stood on the weathered stone.

"Well, gentlemen, I was expecting you about now. I even allowed for your slower travel times, Danz. I could tell, you really are getting on in years." Jeninki's fresh young face smiled, his long, black hair lustrous and unbound. He appeared ready to burst with happiness and energy.

"The aging has become unmanageable," Danzou frowned. "You are aware of that."

"We'll address it, have faith. Oh, it is so good to have everyone here! Do excuse me, Iruka-kun, I've just been giddy since I summoned my villagers back. They cling so tightly now, it feels like I've been in the bosom of a group hug for hours." He wrapped himself with his own arms and gave an illustrative squeeze. "Just delightful. They'll settle down soon, but until they do, I'm thoroughly enjoying it."

He wore a beatific expression, and there was no denying that the shinobi Even had abducted to host the Uzingan user was strikingly attractive. His charming look belied the dangerous behaviors the man was capable of. His power was not activated, and only the slightest sparkles of gold hinted at the power in the depths of those vibrant brown eyes.

"Your judgment isn't always reliable when you first gain new flesh, Hidata," Danzou cautioned. "At least try to focus on the situation here."

Jeninki sighed and, somewhat reluctantly, grew more attentive and serious. Still, he seemed to be a bit off, not as quick to respond as he could be.

While it was merely an observation for Even, it was an intense aggravation for Danzou, waiting nervously like a beggar, hoping fiercely that Jeninki would hurry and dole out his portions of youth and lifespan.

"This is our barter, then?" Jeninki said finally, once he turned his full attention back to them. "You'll return what's rightfully mine?"

"He's not an ox or a melon. He's a shinobi with free will. I won't enslave him to you if he chooses to remain with me. He has the right to decide his own fate in this. But I did bring him. You're welcome to try and convince him to stay, and if he chooses to do so, I will release him to you. That's my offer, Hidata. I think it's fair, don't you? You didn't force him to stay the first time he came here, did you? Things have changed irrevocably for him. Make your case as you will, but then, you should allow him to reconsider." Danzou said his piece and waited.

"No, you're right…I didn't force him. He wasn't well-informed as to what he was agreeing to then, I must admit. And when he wanted to back out, I did let him go. Didn't I?" Jeninki waved a hand in invitation for them to follow, turning to start down into the underground passageway. He hesitated at the entrance, pausing to let Even get close enough to touch his face, impulsively stopping him from going any further. To his credit, the man in ROOT armor didn't flinch at all.

He removed Even's mask and carelessly let it drop to the soft earth at their feet.

"This is getting better at a snail's pace. Danz, you need to keep up with the healing. You're too slow, you should have had this done by now." A disapproving frown creased his lips, but only for a moment. His hands were careful as they traced across the rigidly watchful face. The touch was soothing and warm, fingertips charged with slight healing force.

"I've been busy, as you might recall," Danzou said dryly. "What with saving your ass and all."

Jeninki grinned. "I believe I've even missed your smart mouth."

"Restore me, Hidata. My chakra is so tired I can't properly apply the healing when I try."

"Very well. I'll do it now," he said with slightly exaggerated patience.

Danzou's pulse raced in anticipation. In minutes, he would have what he came for. And if Even decided to refuse to become one of Jeninki's villagers, he would be in a better position to battle to take him back, if it came to that. He didn't think it would, though. He truly believed that Even would decline Jeninki's invitation sincerely, and that because he was sincere, Jeninki would let him off the hook.

But ultimately, it didn't really matter that much. Whatever did or didn't happen to Even, Danzou needed these age and lifespan adjustments. Bottom line, he would have slit Even's throat and paid in blood to get Jeninki to fulfill his promise if it was necessary. Nothing was more important than the extension of his vitality.

There would always be some way to forward his plans, with or without Even, just so long as he lived on to do so.

It always came as a shock just how casually powerful the Uzingan user was. There, unhurried in the light of the entranceway, he turned away from Even and reached out without any apparent preparation. He made light touches on the old man's cloth-draped shoulders and arms, and raised a hand as if in a royal wave of acknowledgement. He then slammed the heel of that hand into Danzou's forehead, taking a deep breath and producing a long, sweet, perfectly pitched note that seemed to be a song in itself. When he fell silent and pulled away his hand, the deed was already done.

Danzou stared with an irrepressible grin at the smooth, youthful hands protruding from the sleeves of his robe, where seconds earlier the clawed fists of age had been. Instantly, after the pulse of power that accompanied the songlike sound, he felt it all: the new ease with which his lungs drew air, how his straight sturdy legs held him upright, his back drawing him upright, tight and strong, bearing his body in perfect posture without effort.

Without looking he knew that his face would be smooth and handsome once more. He turned to show it to Even, in his excitement forgetting that he had permanently quelled most of the reactions he hoped to elicit. But Even never saw the result of Hidata's power on his master. He had been directed to turn away at the last moment by a blind shove of Jeninki's free hand, and for lack of a counter-directive by Danzou, he had complied.

Jeninki had already moved back and was reaching out to start on his next task, taking Iruka's arm and preparing to pull him along.

Danzou's inner celebration stilled. The reedy, dry quality to his voice had changed; a more resonant tone gave warning. He moved to block their path into the subterranean tunnel. "Remember. You agreed to give him a choice, Hidata."

"I did." He paused to regard his potential villager, returning his dark, piercing, unmasked stare. "It's going to be your choice, Iruka."

"I am ROOT now, that is my place. You released me from my commitment before I pledged to this one. I would not abandon that post or my oath willingly. I…"

"Ah, now wait, not yet…I must interrupt. Let me finish. It is going to be your choice. But you will not make it this moment. There's more that you need to be aware of, so that your choice is an informed one. A…fully rounded one."

Jeninki's hand slid down the dark-armored arm as he smiled. He was in no hurry, and he didn't seem to be worried about the outcome at all. "You'll have your chance to make your decision. You'll have time to mull it over as well. But we need to get some things straight first. You must listen, and pay attention. There should be no misunderstanding this time."

"It isn't like it has to be all or nothing, not if he remains in ROOT, Hidata. You'll still be working with him. He'll be our go-between. He might even stay over to assist you now and again; I'm perfectly willing to share," Danzou said placatingly, trying to soften the blow. He could afford to be magnanimous now. He was young and alive, and in striking distance of several of his fondest wishes. Even had already been rejecting the offer to stay here. Things were going incredibly well so far.

Jeninki caught Even's arm again and held tight. Even tugged, but stopped when he met serious resistance.

"Release me."

"No."

Even's hand came up in warning, a prelude to forcing his release if Danzou would allow it; but his master held his tongue, merely watching the scene play out, and he lacked permission to act on his own. Jeninki's response was swift; he made a swiping blow with his free hand, nearly too fast to be seen, and a long, horizontal cut appeared across the width of Even's chest, neatly sliced through the supple leather just in between the chest armor and the hard plates of the shoulder caps. Blood welled up instantly and cascaded in a dozen narrow falls of crimson down the terraced front of the polished black armor.

"No disobedience will be allowed. Let me apologize for the wound, however. It isn't a punishment. A certain amount of bloodletting is necessary in order to begin. "

Jeninki's hand now radiated chakra through the armor and beyond, and Even's reflex to jerk away when he realized it was countered by the taller nin's intruding forces. The blood cascading from the chest wound began to sputter and give off steam; its temperature rose to the boiling point now as it left his body, increasing further until the end of each rivulet ended in nothing but a hiss of vapor.

The assault of chakra was thick and colorless as it funneled in through the breach in the breastplates and flesh. It seemed to find its way into Even's system with its own instinct, invading to flood into his bone marrow and seeping to the tip of every finger and toe until he was helpless to move on his own.

His face turned up as it obeyed the foreign chakra, and his wide open eyes met Jeninki's unguarded. The golden whirlpools of the Uzingan had only started their motion and he felt their pull with total familiarity.

"Now, hold on," Danzou said, rising quickly. "Not that way. You mustn't…"

"No, this part isn't negotiable. I need to see to this through. And then, he should hear the truth. He needs to know what his choices truly are. What causes he will be champion of, as your soldier or as mine. And he needs to truly hear it with his heart as well as with his mind." Jeninki, engaged though he was with his subject, had no problem freezing Danzou in place so he could not interfere. "I will make him whole once more."

"It's too late, you stubborn oaf. You'll ruin him. All of the effort we've both expended will be for nothing." Danzou's objection was heartfelt but subdued. He could see that there was no stopping this now. There would be no last minute reprieve.

"For you, with your limited powers, it would be impossible, I agree. But I can perform this procedure, and I intend to do so without any further debate." He returned the focus of his sparkling gaze back to the motionless shinobi. The gold flecks were swirling slowly, their influence just getting started. With only this slight bit of connection, he clearly saw and understood Even's reaction, although he was held motionless. The embattled shinobi sensed what was about to happen, and he was railing against it, trying with every force of will and every skill he possessed to free himself to prevent it. His struggle was ineffective; the freeze was solid and well-applied, the chakra invasion complete, aided by the fact that he had not tried to evade it when it had been cast upon him. His obedience had worked against him.

"I know this will be difficult for you, Iruka. You must have some misgivings about the way things have been going, I would think. You must know by now that when you lose the ability to use all of your nature, part of the truth is hidden from you. Emotion has a quality of intuition all its own. Without it, your puzzle will always be missing the final pieces. " Jeninki smiled almost apologetically, his handsome young face betraying just a bit of regret. The initial discovery, when he looked within, was worse than he had anticipated. The chakra he found severed and sectioned off had already begun to deteriorate severely. Danzou's methods were as cold and cunning as ever. He had accelerated the putrefaction process instead of just leaving it to the natural progression of things. The clever man had been hedging his bet, and it had almost worked. It would be close, but as rotted as Iruka's emotional center had become, it should not be irretrievable.

"It's Even. His name is Even," Danzou corrected dispiritedly, although he sensed that Jeninki's use of his shinobi's previous name was purposeful, intended to show his refusal to accept the evolved persona. The two figures stood as one silhouette against the daylight, framed by the rough-hewn supports to the entrance. The position they held did not alter. Danzou suspected the image was one he would always carry with him as it etched itself on his captured gaze.

The deeper he penetrated in order to manipulate the chakras, the more invasive his connection became, one that allowed Jeninki to pick up very detailed thoughts. Even was projecting protesting thoughts at him fiercely, since it was the only thing he was free to do, but his former cellmate did not let it interfere with his work. Yes, he agreed through their linked awareness, it was not fair, and yes, Even had become a stellar performer given his less-than-promising career up until ROOT. And yes, he fully understood that Even had no desire whatsoever to be made whole once more. Reminding him that he might not feel that way as Iruka did not change his attitude. Even fully believed that Iruka was voluntarily sacrificed when he became the excised piece of himself; what he felt to be his weak, undesirable side. If that weak side were to be lost, the loss was expected and entirely acceptable.

But Jeninki had made his pact with the entire man, and he would only be allowed to renege if he did so in the same essential self as he had been. The man he wanted in his village was more than this battle-ready passionless animatron. Besides, he paused for a moment to reflect…if he were to take Iruka from his mortal shell as is, right now… would he reunite into one self or would it doom him to be fragmented forever? He really wasn't sure how or if that would work. In light of that, it reaffirmed his determination to take the next steps.

With a staggering intensity of concentration, he began the process of reversing Danzou's division of Iruka's being. He removed the first barrier and brought the banished mass to rest against the functional center; by weakening the area where they touched until a tiny breach occurred at the junction, he reintroduced the vital, steely-strong central core to the suffering, starved, critically ill emotional forces. The Uzingan spun madly with the effort.

Having been devoid of feelings for so long, the murmur of their approach was more provoking to Even than the battle cry of any enemy. He felt the pressure of its unfolding presence and tried to steel himself against the full impact. It started gradually at first. In small, stinging hits, reminders of frustration, humiliation, loneliness and fear nipped into his core regardless. Love and loss, aching need, hope and despair…he prepared grimly to fight them off, he had no need or want of them, they would only make him less of what he had worked so hard and given up everything to become. The growing barrage pierced his defenses but failed to find connection …until an opportunistic pang of emotion slipped through and took a fierce hold, an irresistible force with a familiarity he embraced at once.

It was his old friend anger; raging anger, at being manipulated once more with no regard for his will. A trace of the feeling found a foothold and erupted into a flow of outraged accusations, furious thoughts aimed like an arrow at Jeninki.

It was all the confirmation the larger nin needed: the ping of a still-alive emotional response that had made it back into the fold. His smile of victory was only slightly lessened by the knowledge that it was hatred and anger, and that it was directed at him for his role in all of this. These were the breakthrough emotions that had breached the weakness in the border and lured the stolid ROOT mindset into breaking rank. It was only the taste of anger, small and slight, yet it felt like it filled the universe in the vacuum in which Even experienced it. But when he gave in and allowed that feeling to run its course, it opened a pathway he could not control or seal off. His newfound emotions were microscopic in comparison with the avalanche that began to thunder in through the newly reopened portal.

No amount of shinobi training, force of will, or manly mettle could hope to withstand such a shock without reaction. While still largely quiet and held in place by Jeninki's power, Even's frantic struggle for survival was just below the surface, pressing for release against the powerful Uzingan control.

"Damn you!" Danzou growled. His own, inferior Uzingan powers refused to activate as he called on them in a last-ditch effort to counter Hidata's controls." Don't do this!"

Jeninki was repositioning, pausing to prepare his mindset before engaging in the next level of the integration. He spared Danzou a reply, although he did not look away from his subject.

"It's too late to turn back. I have set all of the wheels in motion. The blood has been spilled. It has already begun," Jeninki said softly, turning Iruka's face up with a gentle hand. The pain he saw in the large, dark eyes saddened him. "It's all right. I'm going to help you. This next step in the procedure is going to be the worst of it; it will be very hard on you, I won't lie. But then, I will lessen the disruption and I will maintain control until you achieve basic reintegration and balance. Gradually, we will put you back together again, and then you can make your choice. You have three, you know. Because it isn't between my village and Danzou; it's between my village, Danzou and Konoha. Neither of us are looking out for the best interest of you sworn homeland; and you…"

"Shut up, man! Speak for yourself. My plans will make for a better Konoha! I…"

"Shut up yourself, Danzou! You want to overthrow the Hokage and take the village for you own. That isn't the same as being loyal to Konoha as we know it. My loyalties are with my own people and my vision for their charmed existence. I do not pretend otherwise, nor have I ever."

Iruka and Even were both only distantly aware of this conversation, and while they made out the words to a degree, the shock of thrusting Iruka alongside Even was so severe that the news made little impact. Short term memories were beginning to short-circuit, and life since the separation of his chakra began to lose continuity in both spheres of his mind, large chunks of his recent past burned away like film stopped too long in the destructive heat of a powerful projector.

Jeninki gripped Even's head with both hands to solidify their connection, setting his own feet apart in a steady stance as he used the Uzingan to reenter the tumultuous battlefield that the shinobi's consciousness had become. Small smudges of blood from Even's wound had found their way to Jeninki's fingertips. From there, they had passed onto Even's face; a face still showing the remnants of their last adversarial encounter.

Iruka's shocked plunge back into the main life-sustaining power of his being was not voluntary; he was sucked into the vortex. The unnatural separation tried to resolve itself the moment Jeninki removed the barrier and set the pieces in striking distance. He was no longer equipped to withstand pressure. He had been robbed of access to his ability to reasoning, and had spent too many days without it trapped in darkness, all the while experiencing a slow and certain death. All of the emotions connected with that process had been fermenting, with no logic to temper them; now, the catapult back into life and light was nearly as unbearable.

The new self he helplessly smashed into and through, damaging it severely, was efficient, capable and far more worthwhile that Iruka had ever hoped to have been. His intrusion snapped the firm moorings of his counterpart's logic and drained the nearly invincible strength and inhuman resilience down to nothing in a racing heartbeat. The head-on collision was catastrophic for them both.

The shoe was now on the other foot; it was Even's turn to experience an impending death of sorts. The ROOT persona could not remain existent for long, invaded with such emotional turmoil. The flood of emotion, negative energy amplified a hundredfold by its state of decomposition, tore through the flawless shinobi persona and began to deconstruct it as well.

Logically, he knew at once that this level of damage would be impossible to survive intact. Without Jeninki's force tightly supporting him, maintaining his continuity as the corrosive fusion tore him to bits, he would have ceased to exist already. But for Even, letting go and dying now because it was an easier end was not an option. If he could somehow prevail, it would be his duty to do so, and giving up was a luxury he was not to be afforded. Although every fiber of his essence was torn to shreds and had more than earned the mercy of death, he hung on, weathering the damage that Iruka's chakra unwillingly delivered as it shot through and burned into him.

Jeninki began to infuse a softening chi, to lessen the harsh grinding of the reintroduced elements as they were irresistibly drawing back into one another. It was a delicate operation conducted with the force of a volcanic eruption, no easy task to try and preserve both Even and Iruka until the two reunited as they should. If one or the other were to gain dominance too quickly, not only would the imbalance alter his personality in unpredictable ways, it would also allow the chakra rot to sicken the entire lot as badly as Iruka's imprisoned core had been, and incurable madness could easily result. It was already an issue as the emotional element had intruded with more damaging force than expected and the Uzingan power had not suppressed it quickly enough. Even's persona had taken that initial, critical hit the hardest.

For Iruka the sudden release from sure annihilation was a maelstrom of mixed emotions, unchecked by any balance of logic and reality. Horrified at the destruction his rescue was causing, he would have stopped it if he could. Everything was happening to and around him, but he had no power to influence the events in an way. He was overwhelmed, too gravely ill to take any action, and without the aid of reasoning to counterbalance the heavy burden of holding the entire emotional bag. The pressure that shot him back into the life-giving stream of connected consciousness turned him inside out in the process. The disorientation was complete in every way. As he helplessly rode the infusion into Even's being, he was as beneficial and welcome as a deadly virus.

Jeninki was bringing Even's elements back into form around Iruka's seething mass, settling them together and slowing the rate of mixture, removing some of the frenetic power from the emotional forces to strengthen the decimated logical infrastructure. There would need to be healing applied very quickly once things were set together correctly, else the rot would spoil the system despite its restoration. At least now the outermost fields were rejoined. Once the masses were settled enough, he would restore integrity to the retaining walls of the chakra system first, a basic necessity for survival.

Minutes passed. While the two stood unmoving now, staring into one another's eyes, there was little evidence that anything remarkable was taking place now. Locked under the procedure, the only indication of distress the dark-armored man displayed was that of great difficulty in breathing. But Jeninki had made another slight step toward his goal, and the chakra system was closing well enough that he was ready to begin sealing it. It was the last step before directly addressing the turmoil that would be caged inside. His concentration was still first rate, and the sealing was going smoothly when he was interrupted.

"Company," gasped Danzou. "You have to go, now!"

Jeninki had become aware of it, too, at the same moment Danzou voiced that warning; occupied though he was, he detected the approach of the men the same as Danzou's revitalized young senses did.

He had been careless in starting a procedure of this magnitude without concealing them somewhere first. But he had been distracted by his disagreement with Danzou, and overanxious to have Iruka back again before it was too late to restore him. And now, after expending so much chakra to restore the ROOT leader's youth and in the restoration of Iruka, he would be at risk of losing any protracted battle.

"He might not survive if I break off now, the two spheres of chakra are realigned and connected but I still hold the majority separate at the breach," Jeninki said through gritted teeth. "It will allow the elements back together too abruptly if I just seal this and stop. It will destroy him, or at minimum, his sanity."

"They'll stop you anyway, they won't understand," Danzou said. "You can't let them see you!"

Danzou, for once, was speaking the truth. If Jeninki didn't get away now before he was detected, his advantage of secrecy would be lost.

Instead of peacefully hiding out here, unknown to the world, he would be a hunted man again. There would only be moments to make this decision before the swiftly approaching intruders were upon them.

_tbc_


	22. Chapter 22

_Not sure how you'll like this one...hope it doesn't dissappoint. Readers and reviewers, you have my deep appreciation for hanging on this long. _

**Chapter 22**

"Iruka, I am sorry…it can't go well for you now," Jeninki said abruptly, after using a final huge, debilitating gout of force to complete the chakra seal that would assure his subject's physical survival. "I have to conceal myself for the sake of my villagers. I can't afford to be found out yet. I must leave you with Danzou for now; you will have to endure until the opportunity arises for me to come take you into the fold. You'll be free there, I promise, and you won't have to suffer any more."

Jeninki released the hold, withdrawing his hands from Iruka's face as the golden light faded from his eyes. "Danzou, for all intents and purposes, he'll be lost in this world. His only chance for survival now is with me, in my village. But we can't afford to have them find you here with his dead body, and I haven't the chakra left to do more than flee. So take him, make sure he's placed on life support if his body fails, and I'll collect him from Konoha at the earliest opportunity."

Even dropped as if his strings had been cut and then pitched forward, face-down; Jeninki disappeared before his subject's knees touched the ground.

Released from Jeninki's hold, Danzou rushed to his side, rolling him face up. He was coming out of the physical suppression, starting to struggle blindly and cry out.

His Even was gone. Fear, pain and panic flavored the face and vocal inflection of the man writhing under his hands. Never would Even allow such a display. Danzou felt a lump in his throat at the thought; so perfect a protégé he had never before had. Perhaps he never would find his like again. Something in the mix of ferocity, integrity and obedience made Even truly unique among the many ROOT members he had trained.

His naked face revealed that it was nearly restored from Jeninki's touch, the handsome features reemerging, though still lightly dappled in the fading injury that Danzou could easily have finished repairing now. But it was the man within that was now disfigured beyond recognition. Jeninki had ensured that the ROOT leader would never have his greediest desires fulfilled.

At this point, spoiled as he was for any other purpose, the only decent action was to allow Jeninki to complete the induction and free this man from the mangled mess they'd made of his earthbound core. He had won again, Danzou mourned. His senpai Jeninki always won the wars in the end, year after year, decade after decade, no matter the outcome of the battles.

The approaching forces had disappeared from his detection as well, but Danzou wasn't foolish enough to think that it meant that they had gone away. When Kakashi and Ibiki revealed themselves suddenly, it was nothing more or less than he expected.

"What have you done to him? Why did you bring him back here, to this place?" Ibiki demanded as Kakashi boldly stepped up to push Danzou away and grip Iruka's shoulders in an attempt to quiet his thrashing.

"To reassemble him," Danzou said in a voice so heavy with regret it startled both men. He stood away without resistance. "But it has not gone as planned."

"Iruka," Kakashi said, trying to gain eye contact. But the sightless eyes and tossing head were beyond the ability to perceive him. "Can you hear me?"

"Explain it plainly. What did you do?" Ibiki snarled.

"Reunited his chakras. His emotions have been restored. I thought this was what you would want, that it might appease our unhappy Hokage, but…as it turns out, he was not strong enough to withstand the procedure. He is no longer sane. Perhaps he will die."

"The hell he will," Kakashi snapped.

"Surely you know what the odds would be," Danzou said wearily. "His emotion center was removed and sequestered clear back when he volunteered for ROOT. It has been without a life-force connection since then. Still, it should have been within the timeframe to restore it, difficult and painful as that procedure can be. But it deteriorated much faster than is usual. It was gangrenous at best, but then it somehow became dominant when the system re-established. It's destroying him even as we speak."

"That doesn't explain why he's wounded."

"Harmless bloodletting. He performed it on himself. It's part of the ritual of expulsion from ROOT," Danzou improvised flawlessly.

Ibiki glared at the old man, rifling in his mind for the charges they might arrest him for. But attempting to restore a man to his full self was not a crime. Deconstructing him would have been, except that Danzou had received the Hokage's official permission for that procedure, despite the unknown details of converting a man to ROOT.

In Ibiki's experience, Danzou's prognosis was correct. Slapping damaged chakra back into the system was a catastrophic event on the smallest scale. At this level, there would be little hope.

Which begged the question, since Danzou would know this as well…why did he do it?

xxx

When Jeninki's support withdrew, it felt like the beginning of the end for Even, and the end was imminent. The torrent of uncontrolled emotion was entirely understandable in the situation. He did not hold it against his newly arrived weaker nature, although the effect now was that of being dissolved by slow inches in burning acid. As he stopped struggling quite so hard, he was able to reflect on the pieces of memory that were still left intact. It had been a remarkable ride, the achievements he had reached were beyond his expectations.

The end had come rather timely, since the nobility of his efforts had just been exposed as a fraud sold to him whole cloth by his trusted master. Emptiness, uselessness, disloyalty, deceit and waste…these things were the equivalent of sorrow, shame and anger in his emotionless existence…and these were now the known destinations of his ROOT career. So as a personal loss, his disappearance was not so disturbing. It instead seemed rather just; and when the pressure of the exploding pain and fear reached the point where it stretched the last of his self-awareness as thin as was possible, there was no last cry of resistance or thought of protest. He simply experienced the moment, and in the next moment, the unique facets of behavior that had linked to become Even were graying and blurred. He was at the precipice, aware that this was the point where he was about to be exiled into nothingness by the very forces he had once displaced.

As soon as the self-awareness of the healthy shinobi faltered and lost the power to influence him, the raging illness of his other side staked its claim unchecked. In a flash, a high fever broke out, creating illness in the body to match the ravages of the mind.

Kakashi felt the heat suddenly generate and flair out, radiating red in the flesh under his touch, like nothing he had ever seen before.

Danzou's head tilted down, his chin hitting his chest. He felt it in his bones now and he was pretty sure that he was right; Even had succumbed. Iruka was damaged beyond repair, and destined for the same fate any minute; which also meant that, upon seeing her ruined patriot, Tsunade would no doubt revoke her tentative approval of his program. It was back to the drawing board yet again. He had the worst luck of anyone he knew.

But something was happening that he hadn't counted on.

Kakashi removed his hitai-ate and focused the sharingan in desperation. Gathering all of the chakra he could muster, he used the mind-entering technique, impelling it with a force beyond that of his strongest attack. As heavily as he tried to shield himself against the turmoil, it was still like stepping into a meat grinder.

Iruka's emotional life force was patched, poisoned and on attack in high gear. In fighting to survive in spite of disease and starvation, it had become insanely aggressive and desperate. The chakra was in critical condition, nearly unable to sustain itself, yet it had invaded the larger base essence swiftly, causing explosive disruption, viral and corrupting.

Kakashi applied structural support from within with swift, surgical accuracy, while laying on a dampening weight to slow the progression of the damage. He was unaware that it was similar to the treatment Jeninki had been in the middle of administering when he had been interrupted; but for the duration since that interruption, the damage had been allowed to far outpace the needed repairs.

Kakashi detected the evidence of the partial healing going in and cursed Danzou for giving up prematurely, re-engaging in the fight to keep Iruka's chakra from poisoning itself beyond all hope.

He had no way of knowing the mechanics of what had occurred until he used his technique and saw clearly into Iruka's inner light, a light that was shockingly almost completely occluded when he first entered.

As he suppressed the most severe decomposition and manipulated the chakras back into survivable coexistence, it became clear that the task of true restoration was far more arduous and lengthy than anything he could complete in a single intervention. Like a shuffled deck of cards, he'd managed to get the pieces situated back to together, but sense and order would take some doing. The nature of chakra was to seek its own balance, and a certain amount of healing and alignment would try to occur naturally. But this mess cried out for a powerful, expert healer like Tsunade. The chakra drain from using the sharingan so forcefully quickly became debilitating. Unable to do more, Kakashi withdrew, and fell backwards as Iruka's weight pitched up against him in a convulsive struggle. He did not expect that any lucid behavior was possible from someone so completely scrambled and sickened; so he merely took hold to try and prevent any damage from senseless thrashing.

Ibiki caught the copy-nin's shoulder with the top of his boot to allow him to regain his balance and propelled him back upright. "Did it work?"

It wasn't until Ibiki's words drew him out that Kakashi realized he had been submerged in Iruka's being to make these repairs for some time. It was a shock to be released from the sharingan event and while he was relieved to be out of that internal hell, the knowledge that there would be no such relief for Iruka burned in his heart. He needed far more help, but this procedure had stabilized him as much as possible for the moment. At least he should survive to see his next healer.

"It's bad," Kakashi rasped.

"Of course it's bad." Ibiki's voice did not hide his impatience. He was helping to restrain Iruka as his movements increased. "But did it work?"

"Barely. He's still disassociated. He needs more internal intervention." Kakashi used what little strength he had left to hang on tenaciously to the struggling shinobi.

"You can leave him to me now," Danzou said. "His physical wounds are superficial. I'm equipped to deal with him once I recover some strength. Just help me get him back, and I'll take care of him."

"Not anymore. I'm making this is your official notice that he is no longer in your command. What was your goal, Danzou? What was the purpose of putting him through your trial by fire, just to turn around and take it all apart again? You used him to prove your point, but it didn't get you your way, so you just wad him up and throw him out?" Ibiki glared. "Look at him. Take a good look. You must be very proud of what you've done."

Kakashi cast a sideways look at his glowering teammate, hiding his surprise. Nothing in Tsunade's orders gave the man permission to remove Iruka from his assignment, irrespective of the situation. He admired the courage that decision took, and wholeheartedly agreed with it.

"Surely, you don't think that this was my goal. I'm as devastated as you are. If you feel that he has a better chance of recovery in your care, then by all means, I insist that you take him. Perhaps your Hokage's infirmary would be the best place for him?" Danzou kept his head lowered as he spoke, and his hands pulled up so that the sleeves of his robe covered the evidence of his revitalization. If they wouldn't let him keep Iruka, then he would just need to know where the patient was going to be warehoused so that he could pass that information on to Jeninki. As long as they didn't see the youthful features he had been blessed with , they would remain clueless as to what had transpired here. So far, there was nothing they could pin on him for wrongdoing, no matter how badly things had turned out for Even.

Pakkun was growling at the area in general, but held his tongue. He sensed those strange presences again, the ones from Danzou's training room. He could only conclude that they were anchored to the old man's chakra somehow. They didn't seem to be a danger at the moment, but without knowing their purpose, it was wise to keep an eye on them.

This place was full of bad vibes. Pakkun nosed around a bit but couldn't find signs of anyone else in the vicinity. He couldn't fathom why the teacher had been brought clear out here for Danzou to perform such a risky procedure, in the middle of nowhere with no one to turn to for help.

Kakashi had been wondering along those same lines; it didn't make sense…unless he didn't plan to succeed. Maybe his plan was to let Iruka die due to circumstances that would make him appear innocent of the intent. He could then present him to Tsunade as if it were her fault that he felt duty-bound to terminate the program, causing her to be the one to blame for the loss of their precious shinobi.

It seemed like a lot of trouble to go through just to give the woman a slap in the face.

Kakashi had noticed the surreptitious coming and going of Pakkun's investigations, keeping tabs on him without giving it away. He knew from their well-rehearsed means of silent communication that Pak had turned up nothing so far. Kakashi dismissed the ninken with a subtle hand motion. So the situation before them was simply this: it was time to reclaim Iruka and help to restore him as best they could. The battered shinobi's erratic movements were finally starting to lessen.

Danzou was getting a bit resentful with Ibiki, who still appeared to be on the verge of doing something unpleasant to the old man.

"Morino, I engineered a metamorphosis of this man beyond anyone's expectations. I brought him, and full proof of his prowess, before the Hokage, with full faith in her judgment and a heartfelt belief that she would see just how perfect he had become. And she was simply not amused. She who sits and pulls every string deemed him insufficient. In fact, she stated that the removal of his emotional chakra was a 'troubling issue ethically.' Troubling, that was her term. Far be it from me to perpetuate a practice that troubles our Hokage's ethics. Why, that would be disloyal, wouldn't it? Insubordination, perhaps! So I have reversed it, to the best of my ability. My strength ran out too soon, only because he is far more damaged from the initial procedure than I had any inkling of. Had that not been the case, he would have been able to greet you himself when you arrived, no doubt with tears of joy. I am just as discouraged to see him in this way as you are. I had personally obligated myself, at minimum, to return him in no worse condition than I found him."

Ibiki and Kakashi were unconvinced, fully believing that Danzou was lying. But they lacked a basis for that accusation, so they resisted the urge to call him down on his little speech.

Between Jeninki's interrupted procedure and Kakashi's desperate attempt at a save, it was a success to a degree. As far as reconnecting the chakra systems and restoring circulation to the center in charge of feelings went, those tasks had been accomplished. But the systems were still twisted, disjointed, rerouted in unnatural ways. That sort of delicate repair would not happen quickly or easily.

The flow of life energy would eventually revive everything…but for now, the gangrenous force that had been locked away dying was still busily merging back into the whole seeking purification. The initial effect was to tax his health and vitality to the limit. Compounded with the internal shock of being slammed with the return of a lifetime of emotional experience that had been nearly too much to bear to begin with, the effect was shattering.

Kakashi saw it clearly with the sharingan, clear through into naked soul. Although outwardly undamaged, in a very real, spiritual sense, Iruka and his alter ego had been blown to bits. Within him, his sense of self was splattered everywhere and in critical condition. The lucid thoughts to be found there were rare, leaking here and there in errant strings and blobs, like the white that had escaped from a punctured eggshell.

"Look, I'll take him," Ibiki said darkly, moving to gather up the now weakly convulsing victim from Kakashi's tired grasp.

"I've got him," Kakashi protested.

"Don't be stupid. You've used too much chakra. Just let him go, I'll take him. You need to cover your eye, Hatake. You're burning out." Ibiki's hands closed under Iruka's armpits, and his fingertips touched on the thickening residue of blood, reminding him to be careful of the long, nearly clotted wound. The unexpected reaction when he tried to lift him away caught them all by surprise.

"Kashiiiiii!" Iruka flailed up and arched back, as if Ibiki's touch were terribly painful.

"Iruka!" Kakashi and Ibiki both called his name, stunned that he had managed speech, and that he had perceived who was with him.

The serious nature of this revelation was immediately apparent to them both. Iruka had now managed enough consciousness to be fully experiencing the torturous flaying of his chakra.

It was not a good thing to regain your awareness, while stripped of all of your defenses. It had to be unbearable.

Ibiki moved to perform a jutsu to render him unconscious in reflex, but caught himself and stopped. The chakra system was too weak to be adding any more pressure. If he was going to knock him out, it would have to be with a physical blow. He reset his stance and prepared to do so.

"Fucking don't even try," growled Kakashi, positioning himself in the interrogator's way without moving out of reach of the struggling soul. His tone changed dramatically, almost soothing when he said ,"Iruka, I'm right here."

"Hide me," Iruka's hands, shaking, came up without direction, as if he were sightless and unsure of what was in front of him.

"Even!" Danzou gasped. It should have been impossible for Iruka to be this aware. Maybe it was Even, still cognizant, fighting to survive! "Even, I'm here!"

Iruka's reaction to that call was as alarming as the one to Ibiki's attempt to hold him. Within him an invasive pressure rose, threatening to crush him back into darkness. He clutched his head, his cry of pain escaping in protest.

"Shut him up or get him out of here, Ibiki!" Kakashi reached down into his waning stores of energy, finding enough strength to pull Iruka closer. He intended to take him into a firm hold, one that that he hoped would help ground him.

"Iruka, I won't let him take you. It will be all right. We'll go now, it won't take long to get you back safely in Konoha…"

"No! …can't…don't want them to see..." His voice was barely audible, but the desperation in it was louder than a scream. Iruka's hands clawed forward now, grasping at the taller nin. But when Kakashi gripped tighter in return, the hands pushed him away quickly.

"Who? Who is it you don't want to see? Tell me and I'll…" The hands were grabbing at him again, and again he tried to respond, only to be shoved away.

"Don't touch me, don't!" Iruka's voice was growing louder again, nearly a shout.

"Okay, I won't. I won't touch you. But why do you keep reaching for me?"

"I need to…no. I don't want to. I don't know!"

"You can choose to come with me. I promise to isolate you so that no one comes near. You needn't face the village yet. Let me help you," Danzou called out. His last few words were much louder than they needed to be. They had no competition, for Iruka had silenced himself to hear them.

"I thought I told you…" Ibiki warned.

"He should decide for himself, Morino."

"You're the one responsible for destroying his ability to decide anything."

Iruka had stiffened and now grew still. His half-focused gaze drifted in Danzou's direction. His voice was flat when he repeated the word "isolated," and for a moment, his raw emotions quieted, and his face lost its expression.

"Yes! Yes, Even," Danzou encouraged, suddenly detecting a touch of his faithful protégé. "We can handle this quietly, privately, just as I was attempting when we were so rudely interrupted. In total seclusion."

"No. You don't want to go with him. It's not safe." Kakashi physically turned Iruka back to face him but then took his hands up and away to illustrate that he wasn't trying to manhandle him. The moment of calm broke when his attention was turned from Danzou, and the brunette pitched forward against his chest, barely in control again.

"Won't go back," the bruised lips gasped. "Not like this."

"Iruka, try to stop fighting. Try and get a hold of yourself. You've been hurt, very badly, and your instinct is to fight or run. But your mission is over. You need to let go now and let me help you." His arms felt a powerful urge to wrap around his distraught former lover, but he held back, unwilling to make him shy away again.

It might have been true, but it didn't help. Maybe the need to find protection until he regained his bearings was merely survival instinct. But this intense, emotional desire to hide his weakness, pain and confusion was multiplied by the sickness in his chakra. It was a dizzying, nauseating panic that gripped him, and the self-control to temper it was lost, counted among the casualties of the botched restoration.

The shreds of his ROOT self were exerting the same pressure to avoid return to the rank and file as a demoted trauma victim; he would rather self-destruct than return in such disgrace. It was the oddly flat voice again that said "Don't return me in dishonor."

Ibiki stiffened. "It won't be like that, Iruka."

"You've been deconstructed, it isn't your fault. There's no cause for shame," Kakashi said.

"Your efforts have been above reproach. You should be free to do as you see fit. If you don't want to face them yet, shouldn't have to. I can care for you in the privacy of the training room, Even. Restore you to full capacity before you report in. This is all the result of your Hokage's interference. I'll stand up to her in your defense this time, I promise." Danzou frowned at the end of his statement as Ibiki began to get in his face.

"He is not coming with you and I strongly suggest that you stop talking to him now," Ibiki towered over Danzou for emphasis.

"Look, I can take you straight in to the infirmary, into a private room, you can be isolated from almost everyone there. But you need a healer of Tsunade's level. This is a deep, internal wound, it's dangerous and it's just going to get worse. You need to be healed as soon as possible. "

Iruka's fingers dug into the masked chin to pull Kakashi's ear closer. His voice, unsteady and rough with pain, was attempting to quiet enough so that only the two of them would hear.

"I can't bear it. You know. You saw."

Kakashi felt as though he had been caught in a gross indiscretion, and it set him back for a moment. He _had_seen it; and if Iruka was aware of that, then he was aware of much, much more as well. When in the depths of Iruka's mind, while using the sharingan in such a way, the barriers between their minds were lifted. Everything from past experience was revealed; thoughts, feelings and every pain and every shame were displayed in crystal-clear detail. Only the memories from Even's shattered time of existence were occluded from the transfer. It was the reason this variant of his technique had been used only on the rarest of occasions, and with one exception, never against an enemy.

Despite the fact that he was there for purposes other than obtaining the contents of his subject's mind, the photographic aspect of the eye technique took in a vast amount of the information anyway. But this was not a one-way street. While the curtain was lifted, indiscreetly exposing every facet of every instant of life to date as experienced by his subject, it was lifted on Kakashi's life as well.

Iruka, for whatever measure of ability he had at the time to take it in, saw the same uncensored details of Kakashi's tragic, brutal, cold and lonely life. And he clearly saw the copy-nin's honest reaction to seeing him now. He took comfort in the knowledge that Kakashi would not condemn him, nor would he coddle him out of pity or deference to his weakness this time. Were it not for the situation, they might have been amazed at the striking similarities in the framework of the bitter experiences that each had been through in his own life.

The ability to understand this was testament to the fact that Even was not quite vanquished. The emotional coup had stopped short of tossing him overboard, and had retained him as navigator while Iruka was struggling ineffectively at the helm. A trace of him was still holding the mainframe together, doggedly determined not to desert his post as the primary force making reasoning possible. The inevitability of his loss of command over the body seemed set; but it was not in him to allow it to become a blubbering, senseless mess suitable only for warehousing until Jeninki would come to collect his lost 'citizen'. He remained the mysterious spot of quiet in the turmoil, something Kakashi had no time to investigate while pulling all the pieces together. He kept Iruka's mind working, making connections, capable of expressing his thoughts, emotional and disappointing though Even found them to be.

"Yes, I saw. But I can't hide you away completely, Ru," Kakashi whispered back. "We need to get you to the medics."

"I would have helped you, I would have hidden you. Don't you want to help me?" His hands, streaked with blood, pressed weakly against Kakashi's vest. Once Jeninki's chakra had released, the flow of blood had gradually returned, until red began to randomly trail down the shining black armor once more. The glistening of the red fluid caught and held his eyes, and he stared at the evidence of his mortality, unable to look away.

_'He's right in a way_,' Even tried to assert his influence and shake the determination to conceal his vulnerability in some former playmate's care. He should be returning to Danzou's to gather strength for facing the finale to the conflict with Jeninki. '_There is no honor in hiding. Emotions are no excuse for cowardice. Your commitments are with your Master until he chooses to release you.'_

Iruka shocked upright at the message, delivered with a sense of another presence in his head. The unknown yet totally familiar intruder was more disturbing that the invasions of Jeninki, Danzou and Kakashi combined. Because the attitude of this force was not subtle; it had no desire to control or influence him. While it lacked the strength to do anything about it, it wanted to depose him; it was convinced without a doubt that the world would benefit from his eviction, as if he were the one who didn't belong.

The cutting edge of one of the dark armor's wrist plates caught Kakashi off-guard when Iruka reacted to the inner conflict; a deep cut opened up on his thigh through the sliced khaki. He didn't take much notice of it.

"Iruka." A gloved hand reached out, almost afraid to make contact. For all of their fighting, power struggles, intimacy and hatred, he had never seen Iruka torn so wide open, so exposed. It wasn't at all what Kakashi had envisioned. He used to picture himself heroically swooping in and rescuing Iruka while in some tragically vulnerable state, and that it would be the opening that would finally convince the proud nin to depend on him. A major break in his careful façade would be good in a way, a gateway to get inside and demonstrate how right their connection was on the deepest of all levels.

Instead, this was like a mortal wound, with all of the vital warmth that he coveted freezing to death from exposure.

"If that's what you need, then I'll do it." His hand lightly rested on the back of Iruka's neck, and the flinch he expected did come, but it was barely noticeable for the trembling. Perhaps proportionate to how insignificant his abuses in the past had been in comparison to what Iruka was going through now.

"You're not seriously thinking of doing what he asks, are you?" Ibiki challenged in a harsh whisper to prevent Danzou from overhearing.

"Technically, he's still in ROOT as far as Lady Tsunade's concerned," Kakashi muttered back. "I agree with terminating Danzou's control, but you can't make it stick if she doesn't. What do we do then?"

"You expect me to keep this a secret?"

"Escort Danzou back now and you won't know, so you won't have a secret to keep. Let me take care of it." He deflected another razor-edged swipe of forearm.

"I don't like it, Hatake. You're up to something, and this is for damned sure not the time for it." Ibiki broke off and stalked away to follow Danzou. "Hold up. You're leaving?"

"What there's no damned time for is endless arguing," Kakashi muttered to himself.

Kakashi spared a quick look to make sure the torture specialist was occupied and then turned his back on him to speak quietly to Iruka.

"Just let me take you back to Konoha, I'll…"

"No! No, I…" Iruka was pushing against him now, but leaning in. Some small measure of conflict had resolved, the need to be supported outweighing the need to escape all human contact.

"Shhh, listen," he whispered, silk mask just touching an ear. "I'll spirit you in, so no one knows, and hide you away. You can stay with me. I have rooms that I haven't gone in for years. I'll set something up so you can't be detected. Then you'll have time to recover for just a little while before anyone knows you're back. You'll have privacy, and quiet. The dogs can be good company when people are just too much. And you will be safe. I can protect you there, if you'll let me."

Iruka was silent. Had he been in his old mindset, he would have slapped the masked face for talking down to him, raged at him to go away, and reminded himself that the last thing he could allow himself to do is show any weakness in front of Hatake Kakashi. Because if he did, if he ever really dropped his defenses and opened up…well, he didn't know what exactly would happen, but considering the way their interactions had gone in the past, he could only expect the worst.

But now, here, he had been exposed on a molecular level under the soul microscope that was the sharingan. And it had been, unexpectedly, a two-way view. They had seen one another in every way, had experienced one another's most influential moments. They were finally on even ground. Had they not bonded in that way, the sharingan's performance in healing him would have been slowed by the resistance of mistrust. At the moment, that bond was the only stability he had, drowning in the emotions that were bleeding out everywhere and threatening to take his sanity and dissipate it as well.

"I do need your help." Iruka choked softly.

The words came as a lighting bolt to the worried jounin. He had always longed for Iruka to need him. The timing was foul but the crack in his dark, hardened heart took a damaging hit. A trickle of hope found its way in with the icy pain of seeing Iruka so uncharacteristically bowed.

Permission to give freely. The copy-nin had never had it before. He gave people shit, he gave people hell, he gave them the ride of their lives. He gave them pause to wonder. He gave them back double, when they deserved it. He always gave them what they paid for.

But what would he give now that he was free to give support and care in the manner of his choosing? It unexpectedly called out a part of him that he had left for dead at around the age of six. The part that knew it was good to be kind, to share, to like and want to be liked as well. The part that knew there was little as important as the inner warmth of caring for and protecting someone precious to you.

"Then I will do as you ask. You have my promise."

The crunch of heavy boots announced Ibiki's return.

"I'll escort Danzou back. It's against my better judgment, but since Umino seems to have focused on you as his lifeline, I won't try to take him from you. You need to take him in to the infirmary and have them treat you both. When they release him, I would propose that we ease his transition from ROOT by housing him in my unit. He can use the ANBU facilities and work in my office under my supervision until we're sure he's stable," Ibiki said.

"You don't need to worry about it. I'm going to do what's best for him."

With strong arms he gathered up the battered soul so in need of his care and held him close. He fought down the urge to ask forgiveness for all the times he'd tried to slash a path to get to this opening between them. It would have been selfish; Iruka was in no condition to be reminded of those things. For the time being, the apology would remain unspoken, still burning old guilt into the copy-nin's gut.

His chakra exhaustion made it very difficult to get them back with much speed. He doubted Ibiki would interfere at this point, since he'd already crossed a line by terminating Iruka's mission without authority. But the threat that he would change his mind was there, and Kakashi was in no shape for a rematch.

Iruka slipped in and out of consciousness, and while conscious, slipped in and out of total disintegration. Through it all, Kakashi kept moving at the best pace he could manage.

When they reached the perimeter detection field, Kakashi used his old ANBU trick and the last bit of chakra he could spare to pass through it undetected. When he jumped them over the wall he found the dregs of his physical strength managed to surge up for the occasion and he made the final distance from there to the Hatake estate on sheer force of will.

When they finally made it inside, he went to his knees next to the futon to brace himself so as not to jar Iruka when he eased him down on the soft cotton pad.

"Kashi," Iruka groaned, reddened eyes rolling a little to take in the slightly familiar room.

"We're here, you're safe now. In my home. 'Ruka, I'm wiped. I'm going to need help." He felt Iruka tense up. "I'm just going to get Pakkun and Tomodachi. If I pass out, they'll be here to help you."

Iruka saw the copy-nin's true condition for a moment, and it frightened him. He was splattered in blood from the both of them, and so much paler than his usual complexion he didn't think it was possible. Kakashi had expended his chakra dangerously.

He wanted to tell Kakashi to go to the infirmary. It was where he belonged. But he was too afraid of being left alone. In truth, he belonged in the infirmary himself. But his mind went white-hot and flared out in all directions at the thought of medic-nin and Tsunade and Ibiki and the rest, hovering and looking into his shamefully rotted soul. Instead of telling Kakashi to go get treated, he battled the urge to roll off the futon and crawl under it.

"You'll be okay," Kakashi said in a worried, exhausted breath. "I'll make sure of it." He dipped his finger in the blood of his still-weeping thigh wound and called up the dogs. To his surprise, instead of the two he called, all of them appeared.

"I've been keeping tabs on you , Boss, so I brought reinforcements. Shit, catch him, Toma!" Kakashi had swayed, close to collapse, but caught himself before the large dog did.

Trotting paws brought a heavy quilt and light blankets. With the quilt for Kakashi to stretch out on next to the futon on the floor, and blankets to cover them both, the situation felt less tenuous. When Pakkun brought bottled waters they drank and then both fell into a dead sleep.

The dogs brought out the first aid kit but worried over trying to treat such deep gashes as if they were minor. In the end, Pakkun ordered the administration of antiseptics anyway. The two shinobi were so far gone even the sting of their wounds failed to roust them. The pack went down to wait in a worried circle around the men and dozed with one eye open.

xxx

Kakashi saw the shadow move on the ceiling and reared up, suddenly awake from his dead sleep and too exhausted to remember his chakra was spent until he tried to raise it.

"Baka. It's just me," Pakkun snorted.

"Pak." Kakashi's field perception clicked on, albeit belatedly. He was on the floor, next to Iruka. The dark eyes were closed, still unconscious, unmoved from the position he'd been deposited in, but the dressed wound appeared to have stopped bleeding and he was breathing regularly. The brilliant idea to bring him here suddenly seemed less than bright. Iruka was going to need internal healing, not just rest and privacy. It would be a matter of days before Kakashi could muddle together enough chakra to do even the smallest bit of that sort of treatment.

"Baka Boss," Pakkun growled. "Should I go get the Hokage?"

"Not…yet," Kakashi groaned. His mind was slightly hazy, and he needed to think this out. He had promised they could hide here for a time. Promised. He now knew just how much a promise meant to Iruka, much more than he ever realized. He would not break his word if he could at all help it.

"You both belong in the hospital. I thought you agreed with Ibiki."

"I never agree with Ibiki."

Pakkun huffed noisily and covered his eyes with a paw in frustration. He was growing quite weary of his role as the 'voice of reason'. Really, wasn't that supposed to be his master's job?

_tbc_


	23. Chapter 23

_You can shoot me for taking so long to update...but then, that will delay the next update. Wait until the end to shoot me. I promise not to drag this out too much longer. Many, many thanks for reading, and to those of you kind enough to do so, for reviewing. _

**Chapter 23**

It was quiet in the Hatake Estate. That, in itself, was perfectly normal. Kakashi was given to occasional bouts of humming, a fit here and there of cursing and throwing things, and in the extremely rare moment singing to himself - usually after a night out with the boys. But unless the dogs were there, the prevailing noise level was set at dead silence.

The silence was the only thing normal about this morning.

He had been prepared for something a little more disruptive, given everything that had taken place prior to their arrival here. But Iruka was quiet, outwardly motionless but for the act of breathing.

The rise and fall of the dark, damaged chest armor was the very first thing Kakashi looked for when he forced himself upright off the insufficient padding of the quilt on the hard floor. Far too quiet, he had immediately feared the worst, even though his strained chakra would have told him if something that dire had come to pass. Iruka had slept soundly through Kakashi's unsuccessful attempt to rise at the break of dawn. From the cast of light outside, it appeared that at least another hour had passed since he had collapsed back onto the quilt in semi-consciousness.

You couldn't mistake Iruka's state for slumber now. Nor could it be mistaken for peacefulness or inner calm. His eyes were locked open; his jaw was clenched tight and the veins roped in his neck. But his stare was sightless, and he hadn't made a sound.

Kakashi sensed the rampant activity within rather than saw it. He was a human shape filled with a billion disrupted ants, hidden within was almost inconceivable turmoil.

But the brown eyes were open and unblinking, giving none of those secrets away.

The copy-nin took a moment to regroup and rest his forehead on the edge of the soft pad, near the still armor-clad forearm. Once his mind was clear enough he mustered his strength and rose to his knees, joints protesting with every change in position. The dogs had done their best with first aid, and they were experienced at removing their master's fatigues to treat his wounds, but it took opposable thumbs the remove the armor. Kakashi proceeded to examine the unfamiliar uniform, seeking the release points in order to free it from his charge.

"Boss," Pakkun said quietly, head cocked to one side. "Tsunade? Now?"

"Not yet," Kakashi said.

The little dog frowned deeply. Not only was Kakashi in need of healing and recovery, he sounded odd, a certain lack of strength in his voice that the pug had seldom witnessed. His master's chakra was taxed dangerously, and worse, he didn't seem to care.

Before he could take a breath to continue, he was silenced with a wave of the half-gloved hand.

An odd, hollow snap echoed in the room, then another, and one arm section of the uniform came free. Kakashi had puzzled out the hidden releases to the armor. He methodically divested Iruka of the blood-crusted leather bindings and hard plating. His body was slightly thin and wiry underneath, oddly unfamiliar. The tan flesh was split deeply across the chest, from shoulder to shoulder just below the base of his throat. The dogs' handiwork had been somewhat successful. The bleeding had stopped, the wound was clean, and a dozen adhesive butterflies held the edges together sufficiently so long as Iruka remained this still.

Since his body was neither limp nor rigid, it was surprisingly easy to accomplish the task of undressing him. Kakashi could not detect any change in the level of tumult that he sensed within. It raged unaffected by his actions.

Kakashi got to his feet with great difficulty. He tried to carry the ROOT garb out of the room but ended up dropping it on the floor and just shoving it out of their immediate area with his feet. Just that bit of activity made him breathe hard, and he had to stop for a moment with his hands on his knees, bent over waiting for his vertigo to pass. Adrenaline, and his personal feelings, had led him to underestimate how far past the safety zone he had gone when he had been using his chakra. This was about as bad as he had ever misjudged it. He had never gotten this far into depletion without ending up in lengthy recovery confined to bed under medical supervision. That meant there would be no quick bounce-back and associated rise in his abilities. He would be useless in restoring Iruka for weeks at this rate.

He had promised Iruka that he would not hand him over to Tsunade. He'd broken far more reasonable promises that he'd made to Iruka before, with far less excuse. This time it would be more than justifiable.

But he had made this promise to himself as well. Promised not to go back on his word for once. To make this one count, to prove something to them both. He was a genius, according to legend. There should be some way to make good on his word with doing more harm than good.

A vision of Iruka fulfilling on one of his promises, willing to pay the ultimate cost, flashed in Kakashi's memory. He had resorted to soldier pills at the risk of his own life to fulfill his ROOT mission. As dangerous as they were, the copy-nin was now toying with the possibility of using them himself. It was a decision fraught with conflict; he knew better than to do something so reckless and self-destructive; yet Iruka had not been shy about taking this route - maybe it was a sign that this once, it was time to step up to the plate. Maybe it was sheer madness. But he would have to decide soon. Iruka could not be left in this condition much longer; and it was just a matter of time before the other interested parties began to seek them out.

Kakashi sat heavily on his rear and made the uncomfortable stretch to retrieve his utility vest. From the third section of the divided pouched pocket, four small black orbs of power rolled into his open palm.

xxx

Their arrival at the Hatake estate, and ensuing physical collapse, did bring a few hours of quiet to Iruka's nightmare inner landscape. The truce of unconsciousness took down the battle for a time. But it wasn't long before the chains rattled, the temperature rose, and the conflicts were set in motion again.

Even was not giving up. He'd lost active control of the body but he was still firmly entrenched in the mindscape. He would not allow the screaming, the crying, the self-destructive behavior to surface again. He was unable to generate actions now, true; but he could veto them. As all of Iruka's intended actions seemed unacceptable to him, he kept him fully immobile.

Some emotion was creeping back into Even despite his fierce fight against it. Anger continued to seep into his otherwise level, logical thinking. But his perception was getting clearer, despite the growing instability of his realm. By blocking out the lion's share of the emotional elements, he was buffered against the worst of the ongoing destruction. It had been impossible to avoid at first, but once regrouped, he was holding his own.

Iruka's undeserved control of their world angered him the most. Like letting the indigent rule the kingdom, it simply should not be allowed in a civilized world. He wanted his place back, his master, his missions, his katas, his fucking _mask_. He didn't want this face, this filthy weakness, the pathetic loneliness and pandering for crumbs of affection. This was war, and he was a warrior; confidence in his ability to battle back was beginning to grow.

But it wasn't as if Iruka had any real say in it. His dominance was a function of many things, but mostly because the pressure of his released illness was so invasive and powerful. That, and because the overwhelming flow of energy was attempting to heal him back into the dominant places where these elements belonged naturally. It was not his fault that his other elements, this 'Even' factor of his personality, fought it as though they were two separate beings. It was only making things worse for Iruka.

He could use some of that logic and cool judgment right now. The pain and fear were embarrassing things, not to be shown to the world. The shame and self-doubt were the only tools at his disposal to try and force himself to behave as he should. As Even exerted his power to interfere with his overt actions, he was grateful and mortified at once, grateful that he hadn't made a disgusting display and mortified that it was only because the ability to express himself had been shut down by another.

And his sense that another presence was within him had solidified into belief. If he could talk to Kakashi he could relay this information and ask for help in identifying this intruder. He could not tell, from his place reeling in sickness and confusion, if this was a foreign presence. He had thought that his 'ROOT' mindset had been destroyed when he had been so violently reconstituted.

The ROOT persona should not be capable of the mortal hatred he felt radiating from this other entity. It wanted him destroyed and removed with a very emotional vengeance. He might not be an elite of ROOT, but Iruka was no quitter, and he was not about to give up and let some enemy intruder possess his body and steal his identity.

His heart, full of pain and fear as it was, swelled in protective loyalty and compassion for his countrymen, and gained strength in the resolve to stop whatever evil plan this might be.

The gloves were off and the true fighting began.

The outer world was quiet and by comparison went unnoticed, no longer something with which he was worried. The slight familiar pressure of Kakashi's presence came and went nearby, but was always at least detectable within range. In a situation like this, he would never have doubted that Kakashi could be depended upon as a comrade in arms to assist him in his fight for survival. A small part of his mind felt more reassured on a more personal level now as well, after the linking of their minds. If he ever got free of this mess, things would be different between the two of them, if only because he now understood and knew how to react to the strange behavior the man exhibited. Better still, Kakashi might have picked up a clue as to how to be more well-behaved. It would have been interesting to contemplate, if he had the mental energy to spare for it; for now that distraction was not going to be allowed.

Iruka struggled fiercely, if ineffectively, through the gauntlet of mental pressure in his attempt to regain enough control to see his surroundings, to hear and to speak so that he might alert Kakashi to this threat he felt within. But the use of his faculties was still denied him. He kept trying again and again, in every way he could desperately conceive of. Wherever he succeeded in working free, a resulting slam of restraining force would lock him back down tight again.

Even held fast. He was beginning to suspect that, if he held out long enough, the rebel forces would lose resolve and once again sicken, growing weaker with their inability to re-establish in their former rightful places. If he could just continue to strengthen, and keep them at bay, his chance to re-emerge as controlling factor was looking much more promising. Eventually his master might find his way clear to intervene. Despite his betrayal, Danzou was the closest thing to a worthy leader that Even knew. Iruka's continued attachment to Hatake disgusted him to no end. That unprincipled jounin was no better than the enemy, he saw that now. Danzou had simply been wiser about the nin's true nature; to eliminate him would not have been the affront to the village that Even had been so convinced of earlier. He had been instrumental with Ibiki in terminating his ROOT enlistment for no reason other than their jealousy. He was clearly on Iruka's side, an unforgivable sign of weak thinking and emotionalism.

The bits of illogic and anger that had seeded those thoughts were embedded so seamlessly he no longer detected them.

He just needed to regain voluntary control of the body. He could then seek out his master, who would help him prevail. They would eliminate Iruka once and for all; the pathetic, emotional, sentimental wretch would never be missed. It was his duty to take the reins to best be of service to Danzou and Konoha.

xxx

Having slipped the pills in the deep pocket of the old sleeping pants the dogs had selected for him to convalesce in, Kakashi made constructive use of the time that he needed to convince himself that taking them was the right move. It was a few hours past dawn now. With the help of his four-legged summons, Kakashi had managed to get both himself and Iruka cleaned up and treated well enough for their wounds to stay closed and hopefully not get infected. It took a number of attempts before they finally got Iruka in a real bed; the hallway had grown a mile in length somehow since the last time Kakashi had walked it. The pups had to do most of the work, and after a night of little sleep, they began to pop away as their strength faded and the connection that held them there weakened.

With no chakra, he had not wasted the effort to attempt healing; but the task of providing their first aid had taken nearly everything out of him again. When he sensed the approach to his front gate, he was not surprised. But he groaned anyway, because he was in no way up for this yet. At least it seemed to be just the one person. No reinforcements yet.

He let Pakkun release the door.

"I know he's here," grumbled a voice that was rough and challenging in tone.

"We all know who's where. What can I do for you, Morino-san?"

"Listen, dog, there's only one thing you can do for me. Let me in."

Pakkun nodded and stepped back. Ibiki entered cautiously, watching for traps or tags. From the entry, he could see the blood stains on the futon, and used medical wipes on the floor. Further down the hall, a figure slumped out of one of the rooms. In dimly lit silhouette, Kakashi was every bit as identifiable as he was in full illumination. He stood with a shoulder against the wall for support. Ibiki eyed him narrowly, deciding if his posture was irreverent or infirm. Infirm, he decided, although that did not assure that Kakashi was not going to be disrespectful as well.

"Where is he, damn it?" Ibiki said, with less volume than he had initially planned. Kakashi was in very bad shape, he could see that now, as he approached the leaning figure slowly. The chakra burnout was a stink in his sensing chi. He needed to be hospitalized, and soon.

Kakashi shook his head slowly.

"Don't tell me you plan to keep him here. Is this some sort of suicide pact? He needs Tsunade's help. And not that I care that much, but so do you. Do you realize your own condition?" Ibiki stared into the semi-darkness of the hallway, still approaching gradually.

"I promised. I gave him my w…"

"Don't even say it. You of all people. You decide to grow a conscience now, of all times? When it's the worst possible thing for all concerned?"

"Guess so."

"You are so fucking lucky I'm knee-deep in this. Tsunade wants blood, Kakashi. I heard from my ANBU that Danzou's already sent her a message asking when he can visit his man in the hospital. I've managed to avoid her so far today, but I can't delay much longer. I have to report in with what I know. Unless you want to be up on charges, when I come back you need to let me take Umino. We'll get you both admitted. It wouldn't be the first time chakra-depletion affected a man's judgment adversely; she'd never hold it against you, as bad-off as you are right now."

"He's stable. Just give me a day, at least. And even at that, I'm hedging. I said I'd give him some time, and I'm going to do just that."

"And just what is he doing with his time, Kakashi? Talking it all out with you? Is he feeling better? I don't hear anything, and the things I'm sensing from him right now are pretty damned disturbing. You're not making any sense. Its not right to delay treatment over some idiot promise you never should have made; not if you actually care about his survival."

"What do you know about it? He asked me for that promise because it's what he wanted. It was what he needed in order to return of his own free will. Yeah, it wouldn't have been any problem to take him back, willing or not. But he's already broken enough without dragging him back without his consent."

"Listen to yourself. Think about what his illness is right now. What he wants? He's near to, if not already, incapacitated from this. He needs to be healed. Get him the help he needs, then be his little handmaiden for all I care, but until his mind is healed, you can't rely on what he says he wants."

Kakashi looked down, for once not quick with an argument. He knew this, he knew this all along. But he also felt Iruka's need for this isolation, deeper than the confusion and mess that his current situation had fomented. He couldn't express it logically, couldn't defend it to Ibiki or Tsunade, not in words. But if they had felt the core-deep desperation of Iruka's request, they would understand why he had to do this.

"I can't make you understand. But this is how it has to be."

"I could stand here until you fall down and take you both in, one over each shoulder. You've got nothing, Hatake, you're as burnt as I've ever seen a man get and still live. I was just trying to do this the easy way, for both of you. Now we have a different situation altogether."

Kakashi reached into his baggy sleep pants and extracted something small, something he had been about to use before Ibiki's arrival.

"You idiot."

"You said he won't get any help here. You're wrong."

"Don't do it. In your state it can shorten your lifespan ten years or more. You know what? Fuck it."

A throwing star materialized, wedged into the back of Kakashi's hand, the point protruding out of his palm and touching the soldier pill with a honed, blood-tinted point. Still, he managed to keep his grip, forcing his slightly dazed concentration to focus on retaining the small black orb. Ibiki's ability to launch the weapon unseen was testament to Kakashi's critical state of depletion. His reactions were as poor as his perception, and delayed the decision to sweep his hand to his mouth.

A second star, just as precisely thrown, hit the back of his thumb before he could recover his thoughts and make an evasive move; the pill flew as the bone split easily from the expert hit. The pain shot through his entire arm, stunning in its severity.

Ibiki strode forward and snatched the pill off the floor, putting a rough hand on Kakashi's pants, patting him down to check for more, confiscating the lot. The man looked to be helpless, pathetically unable to do more than watch and barely maintain his upright position. Blood ran off the copy-nin's elbow and fell in dark beaded splatters on the polished wood floor. The torture specialist retrieved the stars with two quick, less than gentle motions, lip curling in disdain.

"You are just not thinking clearly. You're ill. Give me your word that you'll come with me when I return, or I'm taking over now."

Pakkun had watched the whole exchange nervously. He sort of sided with Ibiki. The boss was just not himself, and the whole situation stunk to high heaven. He found it hard to believe that Ibiki was allowing this to go on a minute longer now that he'd seen what was happening.

But he'd like the take a chunk out of the arrogant bastard's ass for throwing those stars. In Kakashi's state, Ibiki could have used his advantage of speed to snatch the pill from his hand instead. Pakkun sensed that the taller man felt justified in punishing the already battered shinobi. It was intensely personal between the two of them, as always.

Kakashi clutched his bleeding hand, trying to think fast, but with his mind was trying to shut down on him now. Without chakra or pills he was hard pressed to think of a way to fight off someone of Ibiki's level. And Ibiki was working off of a robust chakra supply. He'd conserved all his while Kakashi had spent his nearly to death.

"Okay, you win. I'll bring him in myself, later today. Just give me a chance to get him ready."

Ibiki's look clearly said that he didn't believe a word of it. His attitude indicated that he was willing to let the game play out just a bit longer. Pak didn't trust that look.

"Kakashi. You really want it that way?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to report in as late as I can today, then. You're going to be one sorry son of a bitch if you aren't there when I finish my story."

"I get it. All right? I get it."

Ibiki flicked a hand to sling the majority of the blood off his small weapons and let his glare drop down to meet Pakkun's beady eyes.

"Talk some sense into him, dog. Watch him for the next couple of hours. And if he collapses, you report in immediately." Ibiki's boots clumped down the hall, across the great room and took on a softer note as he tread across the woven jute mats in the entry. The door closed with a solid thump, and the interior of the large estate was quiet once more.

Pakkun was halfway to the first aid kit, still open on the floor of the great room, when Kakashi called him back.

"It's nothing, Pak. Nothing. Don't bother." The silver-haired nin staggered into the bedroom and sagged against the wall near the foot of the bed. Ibiki had allowed him to keep Iruka and had left far too easily, but he didn't have the ability to ponder the possible reasons why that might have been. Iruka was unchanged: still, silent, and staring with wide open, sightless eyes.

If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Kakashi thought that his expression looked exactly like the majority of the fresh dead he'd seen over the years.

He was wringing his mind for all it was worth to come up with his next move. Nothing seemed to be working. The soldier pills were about the only thing he had come up with. Even if he'd taken them, there was no way to be sure that they would have recharged his energy in such a way that it could be used to help Iruka.

He swayed like a drunk and glared at Pakkun, considering whether the little insubordinate would fetch him more pills if he ordered it.

Pakkun shook his collar hard and glared back; knowing what Kakashi was probably thinking, he was not one bit receptive . For once, he was going to follow Ibiki's orders.

xxxxxxxxxx

Ibiki stomped down the path and out of the courtyard, flinging the gate shut with obvious annoyance, and began making tracks in the direction of the Hokage tower.

As soon as he was well out of sight from the Hatake estate, he went straight up into the near stand of tall pines and scanned the treetops, making a small hand motion in the air.

Three masked ANBU flanked him immediately.

"He followed you, just as Lady Tsunade predicted," Tiger said. "Then eavesdropped from the perimeter - a spying jutsu using a clay bird. He observed your departure without moving. He now lies in wait just past the approach."

"Good. We'll cloak now and return to observe. You take the closest point; I want as much detail as you can manage, but we must be completely undetected. Kakashi is maybe two percent at best, so don't be surprised when you analyze his energy level. It's the perfect opening for someone to give in to the urge to cross the line. Just make damned sure you get every detail when he takes the bait. Fall out, now."

They slipped back into position unseen, monitoring the estate inside and out from their posts in the yard and in the trees, arriving just in time to see the tall, robed figure emerge from hiding. After slipping through the gate and gliding swiftly through the courtyard, it entered stealthily without knocking through the unlocked front door.

Ibiki settled in for the show, nestled in the shadow of the garden wall. He'd given the copy-nin what he hoped were sufficient complications to distract him from throwing up traps to keep out intruders; it looked like he hadn't even thought to throw the lock. From the look of things, he had been quite successful.

xxxxxxxxx

The front door squeaked again, and Kakashi groaned inwardly. He should have directed Pak to secure the door; what a childish, inexcusable error on both of their parts. Now he was in for more shit; Ibiki must have changed his mind.

"I hope you don't mind too terribly that I let myself in," Danzou called. "Kakashi-san, please. I know my soldier is here with you. I need to reclaim him before his condition becomes too dire to address."

He was moving deeper into the house as he spoke. He was already in the hallway, curiously regarding the newly spilled blood when Kakashi stepped out with all the energy he could muster and raised a hand in warning.

"Leave," he growled, suppressing his startle reaction, nerves on alert at the audacity of this man to intrude in his home. Danzou was capable of anything, in his estimation. This bold act of trespassing was a very bad sign.

"You don't look to me to be in any sort of condition to be giving orders," Danzou smiled, his voice creamy with confidence. He was delighted to have happened on such a perfect circumstance. How many had seen this man in challenge and lost their lives? And here he was, helpless as a newborn kitten that was one heavy tread of his heel away from extinction. It was exhilarating. " I'm here from pure concern for my man. You had no right, you know, taking him from me like that. Morino-san was mistaken, our Hokage tells me it was some sort of misunderstanding. Even is still under my command, ROOT or not."

"Iruka's not going anywhere with you."

"Look at you, Hatake. You're bleeding all over your own floor. Why, I think you might be ready to pass out. Yes, as a matter of fact - I'm sure of it." The hood of his robe may have shadowed his face, but the grin was evident in the inflection of his words, nearly mocking in tone.

Pakkun stepped up with a growl. Danzou raised a hand and made swift signs; the pug disappeared with a loud pop.

"Careless, letting your pet misbehave like that. No matter. Stand aside now. I really don't have to ask how Even is doing. He's nearly catatonic, isn't he? There isn't much hope for him. Still, I have to try, don't I? I won't abandon my soldier."

"Leave…him…alone."

Danzou's smile grew wider as he made slow, complex signs with his youthful hand hidden beneath the flowing sleeve of his robe. Kakashi neither saw not felt the subtle, subdued release of chakra as it formed. The tiny, catalytic force rested on the tip of a covered finger, invisible, and he appeared to merely point at the pale chest when he sent it unseen on its cruel task.

"You look awful," he purred. "I'd almost guess that it's the strain on your heart, isn't it? That tight feeling, the sharp pain…I can read it all on your face, no matter how little of it you try to show. How is your respiration, Kakashi? Getting difficult? It looks so painful. There just isn't enough air, is there. Who knew that you would overtax your chakra and your body to the point of no return, and be so foolish as to go home instead of to your Hokage's skillful healing? Now look at you. When you succumb, the streets will be full of whispers about your embarrassing mistake. On the bright side, it will take some of the sting out of your loss for the good citizens of Konoha. They will console themselves with the fact that you must have been nearing the end of your usefulness as a shinobi, to have been done in by your own lack of basic good judgment."

There were tags secreted here and there that would take the whole house down…but Kakashi did not dare set them off with Iruka inside. He had no chakra for defense, not even enough to fight against the jutsu slowly squeezing his heart to a stop. He went to his knees, but lifted his head in defiance.

"You talk too fucking much," he wheezed, belligerent in spite of the terrifying implications of the increasing chest pain.

"I would rush you in for treatment, but I sense there is no point to it. It's fate that I should be here to soothe you in your dying hour, Kakashi. It was your own man that made this possible. Quite frankly, If Morino hadn't barged in without getting capped, I would not have felt so confident about letting myself in. I'm a bit disappointed in you for being so defenseless in your own home. But I suppose a man like you relies on himself to be the biggest deterrent to intruders. Don't you, oh legendary Shinobi of a Thousand Jutsu?"

Kakashi was doubling over now, forehead nearly touching the blood-spattered wood floor. The world was spinning from the dwindling ability to take in oxygen. He should have been able to do something, somehow, to fight back and defend Iruka. Instead, each breath was a struggle, threatening to be his last.

"This is simply tragic. Here, let me assist you to your deathbed, Kakashi. A noble ninja like yourself shouldn't have to expire face-down in the hall."

Danzou's strong, youthful body lifted the decimated figure easily. He took him to the bloodied futon in the great room instead of searching out a bed, and set him down carefully.

He brushed the sweat from around the exposed eye. "Shall I lower your mask, Kakashi-kun? It would make it easier for you to breathe." Danzou considered it, tempted, smiling wryly. He toyed with the edge and watched with amusement as a spasm wracked the weakened nin. His finger slipped underneath and lightly traced the lips tight with pain.

"Even has no use for you, you know," he murmured, pulling down on Kakashi's lower lip, trying to insert his thumb into the mouth despite the clenched teeth. "You don't fool me. You think he needs you somehow. That all ends today, I'm afraid. I am taking him back. It's not like you'll miss him, since you're going to die anyway."

The copy-nin writhed and managed a low, guttural outcry.

"Of course, I will not lift a hand against you. Only a traitor would do such a thing. I admire you, for the most part. You just never seemed to know your place, that's all. Oh, no. Look there. Your lips. Now I'll never know how you truly look, Kakashi. Your lips are so blue, they don't even look real. Let's leave the mask on, then. I'll give you that much dignity."

A small noise from the end of the hall caught Danzou's attention, reminding him that he was getting off-task.

"Even?" he asked himself. It wasn't likely that he was waking up, but was he capable of motion still?

Kakashi was a tenacious fellow, Danzou would have thought the small chakra-leeching jutsu he'd sent into the man's heart would have done him in instantly in his condition. But it was working slowly, making the progress more subtle, and as natural causes went, it was a bit more believable this way. There wasn't any real need to watch him now, other than sheer amusement. He certainly wasn't going anywhere in the midst of an impending full cardiac arrest.

Danzou walked away without a second look and passed cautiously down the hallway. When he stepped in the bedroom near its end, he did a double-take. Even was on the bed, as inert as a toppled statue. There was no thrashing; nor was he curled up solid in catatonic withdrawal. His face was nearly healed, his complexion nearing its original tone now. For a moment, Danzou lost himself in the sight of Even's emotionless expression, finally worn by his comely natural face.

"Even. Is that you I detect, battling for your survival?" Danzou asked softly, tracing the unique scar with the pad of his forefinger. "We can go now. Time to take you back where you belong."

Behind the mask-like paralysis of his face, Danzou's words hit home, ramping up the battle. As Iruka reacted to the threat of having to go up against the ROOT master and this other presence, Even's confidence soared with the knowledge that victory was now assured and in sight.

The robed figure leaned over the bed to gather up his damaged property for transport.

The ANBU were growing restless at being forced to wait despite detecting the dire turn that Kakashi's condition had taken, irritating their leader with the lapse in professionalism. He supposed that using the small projectiles had been a mistake now, much as he hated to admit it. The light coating of mild paralytic routinely dusting the stars, meant to slow an opponent, was so weak it was considered safe for Academy-level sparring matches, and he hadn't really been concerned about that aspect of sticking it to Hatake. Actually, he hadn't really thought about it - until Kakashi's life pressure began to take a nose dive.

It was a possibility, however slight, that in his condition it could cause some more serious side effects. It only served to bring reasonable doubt as to whether Danzou's exchange with Kakashi might have harmed him.

The fact was that the ROOT leader had trespassed, and if he now left without summoning aid for a dying shinobi, it should still be serious enough to get him some kind of adverse action…but it wasn't the easy slam-dunk of the attempted murder they were watching for.

Men were stationed at the entrance to Danzou's compound, and they stood under orders to take him into custody and deliver Iruka with all possible speed to the infirmary.

Ibiki had to reconsider whether the arrest could be warranted now. In any case, the removal of Umino from his master's possession and subsequent hospitalization was not in question - he would not call that segment of the operation off.

His attention was split when Tiger appeared and reported on Kakashi's condition.

Their exchange was cut short. A shock-wave of force from the house brought his rumination to a standstill.

The old man's chakra depletion should have precluded such a strong release; unless he'd been faking it when they found him, supposedly too overtaxed to complete Iruka's restoration. This soon afterward he should have been relatively harmless, easily misled, capable of only smaller jutsu, or clumsy acts of manual assault - similar to Kakashi's condition, although not as severe.

But it sure as hell couldn't have been the copy-nin, and Iruka was equally impotent at this point.

It appeared that they had underestimated the old weasel once again.

_tbc_


	24. Chapter 24

_A lame apology for writer's block is hardly sufficient - but there it is. If you think the apology is lame, just wait until you read the chapter! lolz..._

**Chapter 24**

"I'm not finding Hatake-san's chakra patterns anymore," Tiger reported, landing deftly next to Ibiki.

"He's there. Hold off a little longer…shit!" Moreno's senses reacted to the subtle crackling in the air, the result of a wave of residual energy from a teleport from within the house.

"Minus two in the residence," the ANBU confirmed, poised to take off again. "Barely detecting traces of a third."

"Move in. You transport the casualty to the hospital. Have Ferret seal the estate to preserve the evidence and then both of you meet to move the operation to Danzou's compound. I'll rejoin shortly." He waited until the men darted away to perform their duty before heading out for his own.

Flashing into the Hokage Tower, Ibiki found Tsunade waiting, pacing impatiently.

"Well? Did he take the bait?" she demanded.

"Yes and no, mostly no. It appears that Kakashi became too weak for a confrontation, and Danzou transported away with Iruka. My men are following…"

"Transported? You said he was too depleted for that!"

"Believe me, when we left him yesterday he was. He's recovered to about half-strength already; I don't know how he managed that at his age. Anyway, as I was saying. My men are following up now. Tiger should be at the infirmary with Kakashi any minute. His condition worsened once Danzou arrived, very quickly. But we didn't observe any violations on his part other than trespass."

"Understood. I'll check Kakashi myself and see if I can detect any foul play. Get out there immediately and keep a close watch. Once I've finished here I will be joining you at Danzou's."

"You, Lady Tsunade?"

"The situation's changed, but Iruka is still coming back with us. In his condition, there's no benefit to leaving him in the clutches of ROOT. It doesn't seem possible for him to learn any more while he's in the state you've described. We'll see what Danzou has to say when the most powerful healer in the village comes to make a house call. And once we take Iruka back, it'll give him another prime opportunity to slip up. I suspect that he will not want us to debrief his man now that he's been so deeply involved. His next move might be the mistake in judgment we've been waiting for. Especially when he hears that you are personally handling the information mining." She was already heading out the door, barking her next location to Shizune.

"So the game is still on," Ibiki mused as he set out, pleased at her dogged refusal to let Iruka's mission end in failure.

xxxxx

Just one night.

One night in the fetal position, gently absorbing the energy willingly donated by his subjects, was all that it took to bring Jeninki back to full strength. The souls of his ethereal village clamored to see which among them could give the most aid, to be the first to lend him support. He took their offerings with care, not allowing them to become strained by giving too much too quickly. As his energy grew to new heights, the bonds of loyalty and trust strengthened as well.

He'd wondered briefly during this recovery time if he was being too irresponsible now. Every time he ventured away from his village's earthbound center to gather more citizens, he gambled everything, even their very existence. Without the give and take connection of his chakra-charged leadership, and these souls would lose their earthly moorings and truly pass away. It was a huge responsibility. He had, after all, placed them in this precarious, if wondrous, state. He took that responsibility quite seriously to heart. Every decision had to be balanced with his villagers in mind.

Still, he couldn't just stay here and do nothing, hiding in the dark, as warm and fulfilling as this feeling of belonging might be. Stretching gracefully, he found his stance steady and strong once more.

Walking up and out from the subterranean lair infused Jeninki with an entirely different sort of joy, created by the heightened awareness of this new, marvelous body. The world outside the entrance to his stronghold was a feast for his senses. The leaves fluttered in the breeze, causing the shaded area to sparkle with softly changing patterns of filtered light. The sweet caress of wind on his new face was exhilarating. Even the long, luxurious hair was mesmerizing to his sensitive fingertips. These new hands had been well cared for by the previous owner, and possessed a dexterity that synched well with his control almost immediately. Finally, he had found a suitable body. This one should withstand many re-generations and might last several hundred years barring too many unfortunate incidents.

Admittedly, the lure of the physical world was strong in spite of its countless shortcomings. He did owe his people somewhat for taking this away from them, even though he had provided them with something far more valuable: relief from the constant stress and cruelty of their lives.

It wouldn't do to worry about them excessively now. Experience had proven that the citizenship didn't go poof and disappear after just a few days, weeks, or months. They would last several years without his immediate presence, he knew that now from experience; just so long as his life force existed in some form here in this mortal plane. As long as he managed to survive to return to them at some point, and he left them moored to a safe place, they would be fine.

He had noticed that there was a slight ruffle in the blissful tone of his people when he approached the limit of their range. They pulled at him to stay, disturbed that he kept them stationary while he roamed. But the spiritual pressure of this many souls would be too risky to carry with him everywhere. It would make him far too conspicuous and no doubt draw much unwanted attention.

Other than the discovery by the Leaf nin, this site selection had been perfect. He had commandeered his underground hideout in the secluded area because of its hostility to human presence. Small poisonous beetles peculiar to the area had been in the food chain so long that the animals were all similarly venomous now, immune themselves but deadly to outsiders. It had cleared the isolated lowland area of people over a hundred years before. This place would have been perpetually vacant but for Jeninki's unique talents and needs.

He reluctantly admitted that ruling the utopian world he had created for his people did not quite fulfill his own need for companionship. While his citizens were enjoying full immersion, he had to stay in the physical world in order to maintain them. His connection with them was strong, but he was still by necessity left outside the perfection of his own society's circle.

Company outside of the village was getting harder and harder to come by in the march of years. While arguing with Danzou was fun, the hawkish man wasn't someone Jeninki had ever truly been close to for any length of time. His closest friends and teammates were only wistful memories; left behind along with all of his other contemporaries many body changes back; the Hidata clan members had been decimated by war long ago, and he had outlived his last close friend.

Iruka returned to his thoughts, and he cringed at the failed restoration attempt. Of course, he would induct him into the village now. It would bring closure to the strong urge to possess the scarred nin, and it would feel good to shepherd him into a state of perfection. It was Iruka who had triumphed in finally finding the right body, and he owed him a great deal for that. But he couldn't help feeling disappointed; a villager lost much of their individuality when they merged into the fold. It was a natural occurrence, it was not something Jeninki had foreseen or planned. Without the superficial differences of their old bodies, breeding, and affiliations, many of the boundaries of individuality simply lost meaning and dissolved.

It wasn't clear at first, when the numbers were few. But the truth became painfully evident later, when it was too late to turn back. Once someone special was inducted, the one-on-one bond was lost into the melting pot. Jeninki was able to seek out and commune with the person's life force easily enough, but it was clearly pointless. The contact was shared by the amassed consciousness anyway. He was the only one left outside the fold.

It made him lonely even as the warmth of more than a hundred caressed him. He sent them his return embrace without reserve and didn't let on to his people that he was not wholly content; that wouldn't be fair. It was better this way, selectively sharing certain mental and emotional aspects to set them at ease. It was the only way to spare them from this feeling of need . These troubles were his own and his fold didn't deserve to be distressed when they were so helpless to do anything about it.

Loosening the spiritual connection allowed Jeninki to feel the cold, solid brace of early morning air leaking into the cavern. It drew him back into the physical world's dominance, lightly prying him away from the recharging aura. He'd have to work on doing that in less time in this new incarnation. With practice, connecting and disconnecting from the village could be done in a heartbeat. For now, it took concentration, and it was a little jolting on both sides when he finally broke away.

It took a few careful steps before the ground felt steady under his feet again. Coordination was fully restored by the time he'd traveled the short distance down the hall to the first wooden door.

The door swung open with an unpleasant creak, revealing the ransacked room, prompting strong memories of the incident here. This was where he had meant to teach Iruka the meaning of façade with his blade and ancient spell. The binding wall still held a slight outline of Iruka's form, stenciled in sprayed bloodstains from his captor's swift decapitation. The invaders had then trashed the place, searching for evidence and perhaps more victims - it was unknown what they may have taken in the disarray. Only the large stone furnishings and prisoner's deck remained in place undisturbed.

Jeninki surprised himself with a shiver, chilled into a flash of goose bumps at the mistakes he had made back then. Iruka had been fully committed when they left the prison, and he had botched it by letting the jutsu fade. The focus had been on getting here, he'd been too impatient to stop and use the eye technique even once along the way to keep the man fully under his influence.

He drew some comfort from the excuse for his own poor reasoning; the body he inhabited then was unsuitable for the long run, the brain increasingly disrupted from supporting the Uzingan. Had his judgment been sound, he would have known better than to thrust Iruka into the truth without preparation.

He caught himself reaching out to touch that silhouette on the wall and shook himself sternly back on task. His hand moved instead to an area near the center of the wall.

The section of stone wall rumbled and slid in response to the deft touch of his fingertips on the camouflaged keystones. It slowly revealed the small secondary chamber, stacked with the collection of personal effects gleaned from his villagers, sealed away from rodents and moisture to withstand long periods of unsupervised storage.

Rummaging through the apparel, he lifted out the set of clothes belonging to the stone mason who had stumbled onto the chamber lined with shinobi husks. The craftsman had come at great personal risk to observe the unusual stonework in the area; he came prepared to deal with the toxins in the wildlife in order to explore the architectural ruins. Shocked at the cavern of corpses and the sudden appearance of the large nin in his robes, he'd barely had the presence of mind to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.

Jeninki didn't hesitate; there was no elitist thinking to give him doubt. Though clearly not a shinobi, he claimed the man instantly, and he was accepted by the others despite his weaker, pale presence. Jeninki didn't purposely dilute the strength of his people by adding non-shinobi as a regular practice; but adding the odd man now and again had worked out just fine. Just as he had asserted, his village was a haven of equality in its purest form.

More than once since that day, these clothes had been valuable in his recruitment missions. Chakra masked and disguised as a civilian, it made it easy to lure unsuspecting converts into conversation. The unmasked Uzingan showed the way before they had a chance to make foolish argument or resist. Hundreds of years of experience had proven that ninja, by nature, tended to be egotistical people, and were reluctant to regard non-shinobi as a potential threat. In this guise of harmless peasant, he moved among them with ease.

Now, with this innocent, unfamiliar face and dressed in such a way, he felt fully confident in his ability to travel unchallenged into the very bosom of Konoha.

He latched the case again and began to dress, setting aside his pondering for now. So much had already gone to waste, for no reason. He was determined to seek out what little of Iruka was left to be salvaged before it was too late.

xxxx

Danzou wasted no time in slamming Even onto the steel table and securing him with the well-worn restraints. He yanked each belt tight and set the buckles with a righteous, satisfying snap; it was a good beginning. Even belonged right here under, inescapably held under his complete command and full control.

He started straightaway, throwing back the hood and stripping the cloth from his eye, making a swift exploratory venture into the damaged soul. He wasn't up to full strength yet by any means, but the clock was his enemy now. All of his skilled handiwork had been undone, and reversing the reversal was impossible. And yet…there still remained a chance.

He could swear that he detected the familiar force of Even's steadfast logic, unquestioning loyalty and courage in those first waves of consciousness. He had thought it impossible for his shinobi to have survived the onslaught, but now, gutted and laid bare, it began to dawn on him why it might be so. Even's elements stood as Umino's core persona after all; his emotional side was simply more powerful than the average shinobi's, and he had been managing and hiding this dual nature throughout his life while effectively hiding this source of inner conflict and pain.

No wonder it had been so textbook perfect when he sectioned off the two chakras. They had been at odds and at slight disassociation already.

It was fascinating to witness how the inner turmoil was playing out. Neither the Even facet nor Iruka's emotional being wanted to surrender to his old, weaker ways. They struggled against one another blindly, so unwilling to give up control that they failed to see they shared a common goal.

So this was still his man, not some wreck to scrape up and place on life-support until Jeninki could harvest him for his 'village'. It was heartening to discover that his precious protégé might yet be by his side again. It put things in a new light.

It set him to shifting gears yet again. Before seeking out the Hatake Estate to reclaim the remains for Jeninki's return, Danzou had adjusted his mindset and written off Even's loss already. The revitalization of his own body hadn't done any good as far as his eye technique was concerned. It was still only serviceable, the embedded orb never reaching the full power that a natural user would possess. The lack of power had once again contributed to a loss; the weakness, and the resulting inability to keep Even in his service, were now facts to be accepted, errors to learn from.

Regrets and mourning were for sentimental weaklings and fools with time and energy to waste. In the calm of mediation to regenerate his chakra, he had refreshed himself with positive thoughts, and spared a few moments acquainting himself with his new look. It was exhilarating to look in the mirror; he was ten years Even's junior now, and much more handsome than he had ever remembered being. He doubted anyone would know him. He merely needed to find a different way to cover his telltale eye, and he could walk among Konoha's people as a perfect stranger. Strong and ready to present his former ROOT soldier for burial, things were clean and clear. Right up until he felt the brush of Even's presence once more.

It was messy dealing with this again, no doubt about it. The fiercely suppressed frustration and worry welled up unbidden. There was no denying that he could have used the eye's full power now, and then some.

Danzou reached into both sides of the battle and vied for the attention of the sentient energy within, picking up the ebb and flow of the conflict. He needed to stop the fighting, in order to stop the drain of energy.

He fed guidance into the wild disruption and muted the extreme paranoia, suppressing the urge to battle and searching out the primary sources of the disorienting lack of continuity.

If he could identify the worst areas and let the rest work itself out, it would be damned easier than doing all the healing manually. He needed to stop the war and then let the torrent of inner power work to bind and heal instead of disrupt and destroy.

If his scheme played out properly, it would lull the emotional, less analytical element into dropping its defense in favor of trust and a peaceful resolution. Even's power would rise. When the timing was right, enough chakra should still be available to fuel the eye technique and allow it to guide Even in one swift surprise assault into unguarded essence. With luck, they would sufficiently disable the 'Iruka' element enough for Even to dispatch it once and for all.

Danzou chuckled, the sound delighting him shamelessly with the sweet music of his young voice.

xxx

Even felt his master's approach and another touch of emotion seeped back into his core. He felt gratitude and relief at having company on his side, and he was touched that Danzou cared enough to go to such a length to save him in spite of his now ROOT-unworthy chakra.

He pushed aside his suspicions and welcomed his master's efforts with full cooperation. When he was entreated to released his death grip on Iruka's body, he did so in spite of his deep desire to continue the fight for control. The mortifying events that followed were tolerable only because of his master's insistence that it be so.

The body quaked and choked and behaved with embarrassing transparency, revealing the pain, fear and sickness he had fiercely suppressed it from showing. But Danzou accepted it; no, he encouraged it, and soothed Even with the reasoning for it. It was necessary to have a release of these poisoned emotions; there was no benefit to hold on so tightly to something you wanted to be rid of.

The thoughtfulness was comforting and welcome; more touches of emotion were creeping into Even's reactions to the healing process. The kindness of his master brought a contraband feeling of warmth to his heart.

xxx

Iruka felt the tension lessen, and as he blew out the pent up emotions, it felt as though poison was being drained from every pore. The world was indistinct at best; Danzou's slightly ominous presence was everywhere. Kakashi's presence had vanished. His chakra had all but disappeared just before they transported to this room.

The more his emotions lost momentum, the less power he had to influence his own behavior. When Danzou sent support, it encouraged his surrender, reminding him of his commitment to ROOT training. It was like the last phase of training again, painfully longing to be relieved of this disruptive transitional period. After the strain of being isolated and slowly drained of life and health, the return to this vulnerable state was a hundredfold more disturbing.

Even made a bid for control, and Iruka tried to follow Danzou's urging to cooperate, but lost it at the last minute. His physical body reacted to the schism with a convulsive fit, stranded without clear control. Breathing and pulse were dangerously erratic.

It was his duty to give up, to let Even prevail, to cease to be if he could just get enough of a grip on his sanity to stop fighting to survive. He repeated it as a mantra, but it rang false again and again. It was his duty to let the greater shinobi carry on - wasn't it? But his gut still insisted that something was terribly wrong.

It was during this delicate phase that the visitor arrived.

"Imagine my surprise at seeing this little scene," Jeninki said, towering over Danzou's shoulder in his mason's garb.

"Make yourself at home and just come on in," Danzou huffed, angry at being startled.

"If you want your home secured against me, change the jutsu once I've learned it. You managed to save him, Danz? Incredible! Here, let me take over; these convulsions will exhaust him quickly."

Jeninki's aura permeated the room, so powerful that it was hard for Danzou to believe.

That powerful pressure was the sole reason he stepped away and relinquished control.

The tall nin stretched his arms out before pulling back the rough brown cloth that had been wrapping his head, a hood conveniently draped to shadow his eyes from passerby in the street.

"See to it that I'm not interrupted this time," he said mildly, reaching for the grimacing face that shook violently, the steel table moving under him with a cold, echoing rattle.

His large, warm hands turned the face to meet his eyes and held it securely. The motion arrested when his thumbs forced the eyelids open wide; a few spasms slipped past while their eyes found alignment, and then stopped for nearly a minute before starting again.

Danzou came to the other side of the table, alarmed that the seizures were still strong.

Jeninki's look was softly attentive, his demeanor untroubled. There was a jolt of chakra in the air, one Danzou fully recognized as his own lone Uzingan shivered in its socket in reaction.

"Iruka," Jeninki whispered, and the body on the table began to lose its tension, this time slowing instead of stopping abruptly. "I am here. I am amazed that I've found you in such good shape, and it seems that you haven't gone at all mad. You must be the most unusual soul I have ever known."

"What do you see, Hidata?" Danzou pressed, unfazed by the dark look of annoyance his interruption inspired.

"You really want to know? I see that it's not the time for your games. I'm looking straight in, and I can see exactly what you were doing. You were loading the dice against him again. He's fortunate that I'm here."

"I was healing him, that's all."

"Healing him to fit your purposes."

"Was there a reason why I shouldn't?"

"Don't tempt me to lose patience with you, Danzou. I still have my claim on him, and you were trying to undo my work in restoring him."

"You weren't here. It was a judgment call, he needed help immediately. I couldn't be waffling around trying to second guess how you wanted him rearranged. He was on the verge of utter destruction."

"We'll discuss it later. It's useless to argue over now, and I don't need the distraction."

Danzou began to speak again in reply, but held his tongue instead. He had sized up the situation, taking into consideration Jeninki's relative strength and superior abilities, and Even's still-complex and difficult needs for healing. He could challenge Jeninki, but the goal would likely be lost in the process. He didn't concede defeat, exactly, but eliminated direct confrontation from his options with a grimace and a nod.

"It's so strange," Jeninki said, voice distant and slow. "He has had no less than three disruptive invasions in such a short time, with his chakra set to mortal combat with itself…and he is still trying to find a way to mend and mediate himself back together. He should be brain dead twice over by now. What is it with him, Danz?"

"He's an odd duck. Damned if I know why he's so unique. But it's what makes him so valuable as a soldier. Every other nin is predictable to a degree. I can never foresee what will happen when I give Even an order. He will carry it out, yes…but in the process there will be a hundred surprises. Most of which have delighted this jaded soul to no end. That's why you must let me keep him. You must understand how it is, before your villagers you spent so many lifetimes alone. As have I. And when something this fascinating comes along, it makes it all seem easier to bear. I need him, Hidata. For my work, and for my well-being. You've restored my youth - for once, give me the chance to share it working with someone worthwhile." Danzou spoke the truth, pitching his case straight from his selfish heart. It was a calculated move; Jeninki was soft when it came to his villagers, and perhaps, with a little effort, he could be moved to feel sympathy for his old student as well.

"Did you go mad in his stead?" Jeninki growled, irritation dividing his attention, continuing to provide Iruka with gentle guidance and support while swelling with anger at Danzou. "I am here to take him. I came straight away, because I couldn't bear to wait. You don't seriously think I'm going to just shrug this off and walk away, do you?"

"Just wait a minute, where was it decided that you would take him? I did not relinquish him to you. That's not what happened out there."

"You wanted it to be up to him, is that the issue? All right. He still gets his say in this, if you insist. He can decide. But only after I have restored him properly. After I have had my words with him. And perhaps," he added in dark annoyance, "while he is gazing deeply into my eyes."

Before Danzou could protest, Jeninki shushed him abruptly.

"Enough of your carping. You're distracting me too much." His hands slid up into the dark brown hair, finding it damp with perspiration and feverish heat. Long fingers pressing carefully, he positioned his subject's head back a bit. "I want you to tell me your name."

The body on the table stiffened and quaked briefly, then settled down once more.

His mouth was dry, and his lips parted with a small groan. He was trying to obey, straining with effort. The embattled personalities tangled and crashed, grappling fiercely, neither able to get enough of the reins to give voice to their name, both shouting them out mentally while the vocal chords twitched in silence.

"Take your time. Make the connection between who and what you are. Let your being flow into your body and find its way home. Embrace the return to your natural state."

Natural, but not without pain and deep disturbance. The barriers and separation had been disabled, but the self-awareness of Even and Iruka increased sharply as they were both steeped in the powerful instinct for self-preservation. How these separate entities would fit into the one vessel was about to be decided once and for all.

Jeninki had a decision to make in light of the current intensity and extent of the ongoing conflict. He could, with his powerful influence, bring Iruka to the forefront and suppress his Even side until the two merged. The result would likely be an Iruka much like the man he had met in prison, an intriguing mix of conflicting emotions and beliefs that was charming and compelling. It was, after all, Iruka that he chose to take with him after their intimate contact in the tiny cell; and if he had his preference, it was Iruka that he wanted to revive.

Yet, that state of mind had been a hardship for the smaller shinobi, and he had been through so very much. His amplified ROOT traits had been very beneficial to him, and he did seem to be more comfortable with his protective shield of logic established in the forefront.

In keeping with his self-appointed role as the 'bigger man', Jeninki benevolently provided stability and support, but let the forces continue to sort themselves out. Now that he was in the thick of it, this really was the only way. To do anything else would be to risk producing something that wasn't genuine. He had to hand it to Danzou, it was pretty impressive, the way he had stripped Iruka down to prepare him for ROOT without debasing his true character. Jeninki did not think they would be so lucky twice; this transformation needed to be driven from within.

A forced restoration would have been much quicker. It might take months before the power struggle settled completely this way. But initially, something would have to give, and some manner of collective thought and control would have to pull together to make normal communication possible.

Still mouthing silently, the nin on the cold silver slab could not answer the question.

"It's all right. Just keep centering your thoughts about it. When you know the answer, you will tell me."

Jeninki's hands radiated a golden aura as they hovered again, passing over the prone body and infusing enough energy to continue the healing for a while. When the infusion was complete, he withdrew, leaning with the heels of his hand on the edge of the steel slab.

He looked up and got his first, really good view of Danzou's transformation. With it came the realization of just how far he had taken the restoration of youth. He'd almost overshot the field; the crafty old warrior looked to be in his early twenties if not his late teens.

_Now, there was someone who had never allowed himself to be a victim of his attractiveness_, Jeninki observed. The decided lack of inner beauty had probably been a factor there. He watched Danzou hover, looking, if he was not mistaken, like he actually cared for Iruka. Almost as if his old compadre was growing some sort of human warmth, a lack that had always kept a firm distance between them despite so many decades of being intimately entwined for survival.

"You should try not to worry so much, Danzou," Jeninki said lightly, smiling openly when the mismatched eyes flashed up to meet his. "You'll put wrinkles on that pretty new face."

Danzou blushed and looked back down to hide it, startled by the capricious tone. He had heard his senpai direct that tone at many others over the years, but never once at him…until now. He hardly knew how to react; and in the light of the serious nature of the situation, he chose to push it aside and tell himself he was imagining things.

Jeninki smiled to himself as he settled into the nearby chair, playing with the equipment belt he wore as part of his disguise and contemplating just how nicely events had turned in his favor this day.

"That made me hungry. Hey Danz, you don't happen to have any pie, do you?" he asked brightly, tipping back in the chair and putting his feet up, heels resting on the edge of the table next to Umino's sweat-drenched face.

xxxxxx

Personnel, equipment, and one suddenly frantic Hokage moved with incredible speed upon the arrival of Hatake Kakashi at the infirmary's intake room. No sooner had the monitoring equipment been attached to make a few weak pings, blips and waves, than the alarm sounded and the readings fell to zero.

"Did the machine fail? The connections?"

"He's flatline! Code blue!"

"Out of my way! Move, damn it!" Tsunade knocked an orderly from his feet as she sailed past to the bedside. The frantically working medical staff shifted to make room as she slammed the heel of one hand down on Kakashi's chest, making signs against her forehead with the other, summoning as much healing force into the single contact as a human body could withstand. She didn't want to misjudge and blow the man's circulatory system into dust.

Within the failing body, the tiny, insidious jutsu left by Danzou was erased without a trace from the fierce shot of her healing power. As it disappeared undetected in the time-critical war for survival, so did the proof of foul play in the copy-nin's all too convenient collapse.

His readings began to move again, slowly, as the silence restored from the halt of alarms highlighted the tiny blips and releases of held breath by the staring crowd of personnel.

"Get life-support ready, in case this isn't going to last," she said evenly to the man at her elbow, shaking out both hands to loosen up for the next step. "Establish ventilation now. Where is Sakura?"

"I'm here," the pink-haired woman said as she hustled in the doorway and pressed through to take her place opposite Tsunade.

"We're infusing on three. You see it?"

"He's at zero?" Sakura gasped, stunned at the information her open palms were taking in. "True zero?"

"Yes. One…two…now!"

They placed hands on him without pause; Sakura struggled to keep up, frantically improvising this bundle of chakra she was offloading into Kakashi's empty husk of a system. It had to flow directly, like a transfusion, but they did not have the luxury of time to stop and prepare. Kakashi had arrived essentially in chakra death, and this attempt at resuscitation was not a sure thing.

Tsunade's obscenely robust load of chakra had to be controlled, held back as she rationed it out. They needed to apply just the right amount swiftly, and then get out to address the complications it would cause. It was a risky and unnatural procedure; their chakra would not match Kakashi's, and while it might provide his system with enough force to survive, it could also create an defensive, backlash reaction to their foreign element. The delicate balance would have to be held if this were to work, to keep the alien chakra working despite the reaction of his system to reject it, until his natural chakra could recuperate enough to sustain his life. Then, depending on the circumstances, they would allow Kakashi's system to destroy it, or evacuate it if he was unable to.

Using two types of chakra equally applied was, in Tsunade's theory, the best method for mitigating the rejection response. All one type of foreign chakra would increase the risk of rejection and build-up of anti-chakra. Although, in Kakashi's state, the life-force capable of building the anti-chakra was gone. Tsunade had never had the opportunity to attempt this on someone who was at true zero. Usually, it would be too late at that point. It would be interesting to see if it made the rejection response weaker, and somehow might work better in the long run.

The scientist in her set that theory aside for later contemplation, figuring that if this worked well, perhaps taking a subject to zero before applying this method might be have promise in future procedures.

"Nearly there," Sakura said.

"Ending together. Again, on three…almost ready. A few more seconds. Start to taper off now. One…two…now!" She nearly clobbered the medical assistant treating the thigh wound when she pulled both hands away quickly.

Sakura immediately moved her hands up and thumbed open his eyelids, reaching back to snag the ventilation set-up from the approaching medic and take over the procedure.

Tsunade searched the chakra system again, detecting the under-inflation and sluggish flow. It was alive, but just barely, and it wouldn't surprise her if it stopped, as slowly as it was working.

"This isn't going to be sufficient."

"It's fading already…it's not holding any pressure."

"Wait…I have an idea." Tsunade reached down and dipped up a fingertip of blood from the sodden material by the thigh wound. She stepped away to the side of the room and made swift hand signs.

Pakkun appeared with a snap.

"We need to do a transfusion."

Pakkun, who had been observing anxiously, was already on board with her ingenious idea. Kakashi had infused a great deal of his chakra into Pak over the years. He was more than willing to give some back.

"What are we waiting for? Er, your highness."

Tsunade snorted a laugh. "Save the honorifics for the memorial service if we fail, hound. Which we will not!"

Pak grinned and Tsunade swept him up under her arm, startling him as he found himself tucked in tight with a warm, firm and fleshly breast resting against his cheek.

Oh, he would have a story to tell the old perv after this was over if he didn't die from the nosebleed. His eyes rolled into his head as he smiled a doggy smile and melted into the village leader's side.

She held him out again near Kakashi's pale chest and did her own barking.

"Sakura! Prepare! We have another donor!"

After a startled look up, Sakura hastily handed off her task and moved to assist Tsunade.

xxxxxx

The world came back by way of slow crystallization. The hateful feeling of chakra depletion shot through every leaden cell in his body. His highly trained senses came into their own first, a survival reflex as natural to him as holding his breath when plunged under water. In mission distress, it had saved his life countless times.

An instant assessment of his situation fed back into his semi-conscious mind, struggling to get past the haze of awakening in order to resume command and control. Konoha's infirmary. A sickening mess in his grossly drained chakra system; signs of extreme measures taken to keep him alive. The Sharingan weeping slowly, under a soft cloth; swaths of tape across his face where his mask should have been, securing the painful tube that invaded deep into his throat to deliver oxygen regardless of his ability to breathe on his own. He'd only experienced this degree of life-support one other time, and that brush with death had been far too close.

It spurred him into shaking out the cobwebs, squeezing his eyes shut hard to try and clear his sight. There was something applied to him to sedate him, something very mild in the way of a jutsu with the sweet flair of Tsunade's unique spells. So mild it caused even more concern. Injured jounin were dangerous when hospitalized, and firm restraints to avoid unpleasant incidents were always a priority. He knew this was not carelessness, but the opposite. His body must have been deemed to be too damaged for proper restraints, either so disabled that he was not a threat, or so close to death that the risk to his survival was too great.

That was one he'd never experienced. His deeply ingrained murderous talents were as feared by his comrades as they were by any enemy.

His fierce concentration paid off. In a flash of returning memory so provoking that the aide sitting by the bed leapt to his feet and ran screaming down the hall for help, he knew. His reaction was strangled by the airway, his roar of anger and despair paralyzed by the invasive tube.

Failed. He'd failed - again. He was not a man who lost; he made his living by making damn sure that didn't happen.

But he'd failed again, and failed at protecting one of the few people that actually meant something to him in his adult life. He had no voice, but he screamed furiously anyway, searing his throat with pain and reddening his face as his body's tension arched him up off the bed but for the back of his head and his grinding heels.

"Brat!" Tsunade roared, flouncing into the room with a loud confident tone to cover her fear. "Settle down!"

Kakashi was radiating distressed chakra, and he could not afford to be sparing a drop. She slapped a hand on his forehead and instantly channeled into his brain's motor center to shut down his ability to move.

His body dropped like the strings were cut, and she moved in further to haul down his runaway emotions, swaddling his distress tight.

"You'll die, you idiot. Get a hold of yourself! Be shinobi, damn it! Man up!"

When it became clear that he was not able to settle down, she knocked him out cold with a syringe full of amber liquid and left orders to continue administering it at regular intervals until she instructed otherwise.

It appeared that his chances of survival were quite good now, although the recovery would be lengthy and difficult. Tsunade deemed it safe enough to turn over to Sakura's medical team.

After all, she had a house call to make.

xxxx

The steel table rattled, bringing Jeninki back to his feet. Iruka/Even was looking at him as he hovered.

"That's…remarkable," Jeninki breathed.

"What? What is it?" Danzou rushed to the table and looked once, then twice, cocking his head at an angle. "This…this is…what the hell?"

"Look, look…" Jeninki's hand brushed the blushing cheek, traveling up to the eye scrunched tightly shut. "I think this is Iruka-kun."

"But…"

He reached to the other side of Iruka's face, to the open, steady, serious expression. That eye was open and staring back at him boldly. "And I think this…this is Even. Oh, my. My my my."

Jeninki's bemused laugh angered Danzou.

"It's not funny, damn it!"

"No, you're right. Not really." Jeninki loosed and removed the straps, Danzou nagging behind him, unhappy with letting him up.

"He can't stay like that. You're not stopping now, are you?"

"Quiet!" Jeninki snapped. "Back off." He pulled on the shinobi's shoulders to sit him up, then guided his legs so they dangled from the edge of the rolled steel. He let go experimentally, hands close in case of collapse or lack of balance. But the body seemed stable enough, although he soon slouched and looked weary.

"Iruka?" he asked, stroking the reddened cheek and bringing his face close. Now the other, paler side closed its eye and grimaced.

But the side he'd been addressing slowly raised an eyelid and met his gaze, unstable with turmoil. It examined the deep brown of the Uzingan with its magical pattern of pure gold.

"It is you. How did this happen?"

But other than a tightening of the corner of his mouth, Iruka didn't seem to be capable of replying.

"Let me try," Danzou insisted, pushing close and risking his senpai's anger. But Jeninki only nodded, reluctantly breaking eye contact.

"Even."

The paler side reacted immediately; the close eye flew open, widened and searched until it swept past Jeninki and locked on Danzou.

"Even, can you take my hand?"

The same-side arm lifted, wobbly and weak, and the attempt to reach out fell short - but clearly, he was trying to obey.

"Like Siamese twins," Jeninki said. "What to do."

"What do you mean, 'what to do'? He can't stay like this."

"Just hold on. I'm trying to think." Jeninki's mind was searching his vast experience, carding through the thousands of jutsus, spells, and rituals he'd come across in his lifetimes. Was there a spell to truly split a man into two men? This seemed like the perfect solution, if only he could some up with the procedure.

"Even, talk to me. Please." Danzou watched as Even clumsily raised his hand, apparently trying to make a hand-sign and failing.

The other eye moved independently to follow Jeninki's movements, and the other hand came up to touch Jeninki's.

That touch fired Jeninki's determination even more.

Danzou took the other hand.

"Impossible. It's like there's two of him now."

"This is so very interesting, Danz. It's not a left brain/right brain thing. It's like he's been split right down the middle. It's more of a personality division."

"Can you take Iruka into your village and leave Even to me?" Danzou asked, nearly gasping at his own perfect idea.

Jeninki glared, but paused to consider. Danzou would definitely be getting the better end of that deal.

But Iruka and Even? What would be best for him/them? Should he make more perilous attempts to 'normalize' the long-suffering shinobi? Or was this a phase in the recovery, something best left to resolve itself?

Why was he even mulling over something so far-fetched as turning him into two people, as if it were a possibility, anyway? It had to be a by-product of Danzou's greed, spilling over and polluting all common sense.

"What? We're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" Jeninki said, looking sideways at Danzou's fresh, young, impatient face. "So he's exhibiting some strange behaviors. That's understandable; his transition is not complete. But it's a myth that someone can be permanently split into two separate people. Well, not willingly, anyway; and not without a powerful jutsu - and in the end, they die. The only one I've heard of is a method of interrogation, used by Mist to split the mind to extract information. Neither half is capable of surviving on its own for long."

"But only one physical half has to survive! Your people leave that behind when they join your village anyway! He's been subjected to incredibly powerful chakra-rechanneling jutsu, several times over. Our collective powers have never been used like this before, that's why it has no precedent. We did this to him, Hidata! Maybe we've stumbled onto something new! Take Iruka for your village, and leave Even with me!"

xxx

Iruka struggled to see, to move…but every action was a fight, and he clearly felt Even's presence as the factor warring for supremacy.

His left side was numb, lost to him, blind and deaf. His use of his right side was limited and awkward - and speech seemed impossible. He got disjointed, poorly focused feedback from his eye; his hearing was functional, and at that it wasn't very reliable. Even was blocking him out at every turn, trying to establish and expand full control bit by bit.

Jeninki touched him and it was a huge relief when the Uzingan locked in. He needed some sort of stability and support from the outside world to counterbalance the total disruption within. Being released from the slow torture of rotting in solitary confinement, only to be faced with rejection by his own body, was nearly beyond his ability to tolerate. This wasn't how it was all supposed to happen. Volunteering for ROOT was supposed to perfect him; not rob him of his better half and crush him in to a dark, slow, torturous death fraught with uncontrolled emotions and pain.

When Jeninki's powers reached him, it touched off a return of recent memory that held him back for a moment. The foggy impression that Kakashi had been here, helping, although he had been seriously ill…and then his chakra had abruptly disappeared. The jounin had been frantic to help him, and then he was gone. It implied that something grave had happened, a circumstance that Iruka was in no condition to contemplate. It left him with the conviction that there were no lifelines left.

He reached for Jeninki's help in renewed desperation, fearful and shaken. The warm, strong, comforting chakra wrapped him tight. A line of communication opened, and the powerful Uzingan user spoke in mental images and abstract ideas, but no words had ever been clearer.

Jeninki wanted to rescue him, sincerely and without anger or reproach. He comforted and soothed the ragged edges, and Iruka felt him flowing freely around his twisted chakra, investigating, examining. He wasn't sure that accepting that support was wise; but there wasn't any point in resisting something that felt like the only safe harbor in the world.

It didn't last nearly long enough. He tried to cling tight and prevent Jeninki from leaving; all apologies and promises, the powerful shinobi slipped away, and Iruka was left to mourn the loss alone.

With Jeninki gone, the hostile pressure from his enemy-inhabited body returned with daunting force.

Even's control was only slightly better, he trained his eye rather quickly to track movement and discern shapes. When he felt the astronomical rise in Iruka's power, he detected the other's presence as the cause, and had closed his eye tight. It wasn't really necessary, though. He wasn't the aim of the invader's search.

At least, not then. When the power drained and Even detected that Iruka was alone on his side again, a hand gently pried open his eyelid and he was shot through with a golden light.

Jeninki. He boldly entered and began his second inspection with little preamble. Even tried to tighten up and keep the invasive nin at arm's length, but it did no good. The Uzingan technique revealed exactly where the ROOT persona stood.

Even made no bones about his position, and he had no intention of hiding it from Jeninki - not that he could have anyway. This was his turf now, and Iruka was an unwanted invader, his revival a nonsensical mistake.

He hated the inspection, and the sparks of anger grew. If murder was required to throw Jeninki out, he would have done so without a second thought. His master was surely not happy with all of this.

The world suddenly dropped ten stories, and when the jolt of it hit, the thick separation between himself and Iruka was nothing more than gossamer thread. Jeninki backed out then, and it was just the two of them, a breath apart.

He felt Iruka's shock and fear radiating hotly, so close it made ripples in his own composure. A knee-jerk reaction of hatred and resentment shot through every nerve, sending his lone hand out to rake the opposite side of his face in a vicious clawing strike. Sinking fingernails into the tender new skin at the apex of the attack, it was bitterly satisfying to get the instant feedback of distress that it caused. He didn't feel a thing, not that it would have mattered; but the pathetic other self reacted in pain and fright.

He couldn't declare it, but his thoughts blared his hatred and intent to kill; the responding wave of confusion and panic was thoroughly satisfying.

If not for the outside forces now restraining his movement, he would have jammed his thumb into the offending eye socket and taken out the interloper once and for all.

xxxxxxx

Jeninki broke the second contact and snagged Even's hand before it could strike again.

"Well?"

"Danzou…it can't work. They're incomplete without each other. And Even has regained a significant part of the emotional chakra already. They're both disrupted and in flux, and it can only get worse the more they polarize. The division between them was more like a scab or a clot. I cleared it away, but that's not going to solve the problem. I'm not sure what to do next."

"We should support the stronger of the two, then. The one who has a better chance of successfully returning. You know as well as I do that Even is a hundred times stronger than his old self."

"Here, let's get him on his back again. I'm going to restrain this arm. We can't have him hurting himself."

They looked up at each other and stopped. The perimeter icons began to transmit a warning message. Several intruders had entered the property, one of them unusually formidable.

"Get your face covered, Danzou. I need to hide." Jeninki hastily buckled the strap on Even's uncooperative left arm and took a moment to concentrate, veiling his chakra before draping his own head in rough-hewn cloth.

"You can't teleport out. They'll detect it."

"I know. I'm going to wait in the back entry and conceal myself. If need be, I'll slip out. In any event, no one should recognize me."

"They must have found Kakashi by now. You'd think they'd be distracted with that, at least a little."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about but you'll have to explain later. Pull that wrap further over your eye. I really did go too far with the restoration this time. You don't look a day over twenty."

"Ah." Danzou made hand signs, and his face and hands took on their old age-worn appearance. "Better?"

"Much."

The front door rattled as if buffeted by a fierce storm.

Danzou recognized the Hokage's unique force; he was bellowing to her as he stormed out into the hallway, calling out loudly in supreme irritation.

"Who's there?"

He made a sour face at her pronouncement and waited until her spiel, asserting right of entry, died down.

"Very well," he spat, and yanked the door open. Tsunade's reddened face met his glare without hesitation.

"So, you thought you'd take care of him, did you? Are you going to show me that he's all better now?" she barked.

"Of course not," he snarled back. "This isn't like lancing a boil, or whatever garden-variety procedures you're familiar with."

"You must let me see him. Immediately."

"Must I? I don't think…"

"That's right! You don't think. I'm the chief healer in this village, as well as its Hokage. He belongs in my care."

"You can see him. But don't be so sure that you're the best one for this job. You're not familiar with the procedures involved. How…"

She cut him off again, striding forward and forcing him to either fight her or stand down. "You have no knowledge of what procedures I am or am not familiar with. Show me to him, now."

He snarled inwardly and stepped back, noting unhappily that Ibiki and two of his Anbu elite had come as well.

At least the Hyuuga was not with them.

"The training room. Morino knows the way," he grumbled.

They filed down the hall and Ibiki held open the door. Tsunade took it all in; the impressions of the many things that had happened here filtered into her consciousness. It only served to add to her resolve.

Iruka's body had flipped off the side of the steel table and hung partially suspended by one brutally bent arm, trapped by the lone fastened restraint. He quaked with the battle raging within.

The gloves were off as far as Even was concerned. He was attacking Iruka with everything he had, threats, hatred, attempts to seize control of the major bodily functions. His lesser half was easy to disturb, relatively defenseless, unable to consistently reason through any of what was happening.

The right eye wept even though it was shut tight.

"You interrupted me. Now look!"

"Stay back. Ibiki, get him up." The torture specialist and his ANBU replaced the battered form back on the table.

The masked pair turned to stand with their leader, stationed protectively between the Hokage and Danzou when she pushed up her sleeves and placed them on Iruka's forehead.

She saw the chasm developing in the midst of Iruka's being, muttering as she delved further. She was glad for Ibiki's protection; this required her full concentration.

This went beyond her expectations. The damage inflicted through all the prior manipulations paled in comparison to the spiraling insanity of self-destruction.

Tsunade bypassed all the obvious elements of dischord and went straight for the center of the man's mortality. It would have to be intact; if this had been breached, he would be dead. Instead of trying to mediate the growing differences together, she went directly to the place where they were irreversible joined. And from there, she took one huge bolt of chakra, and pulled straight out from there, freezing and silencing the separated chakras as she went.

She reached the last strata in eerie silence and withdrew a bit to clear her head and observe.

She moved in again and flooded the restrained awareness with anaesthetizing warmth. The struggle to slip her control diminished. The chakra system was easing into a more natural shape without the battle of wills preventing it from recovering. No foolishly sentimental loose ends, no allowance for evolving a new, unique configuration to allow for free will or arbitrary adjustment. It all had fit in its place originally, and she saw no excuse not to heal it all right back where it had been. She was not in pursuit of some advanced soldier or of a new and improved Iruka. It was much simpler to restore him using the same old pattern that had served Iruka-sensei for most of his lifetime. She suspected that it would be the best thing for her patient as well, once the infighting was resolved. She would release the suspension and deal with the repairs when she had analyzed it further and was fully prepared to take whatever steps were necessary.

When she pulled away and took her first good look at Iruka's face, a small smile tugged at her lips. He was handsome once more, and she was sure that the bizarre, disjointed expression would be replaced before long with one of mere discomfort.

Danzou gasped. He wanted to wring her neck. It had been so easy for her to just lay hands on Even and destroy him without a moment's hesitation.

She looked at him levelly and crooked a hand at the ANBU.

"I didn't quite believe it when Ibiki said that you claimed to be releasing him. That he was no longer ROOT. Well, I'll be damned, Danzou - you were telling the truth. From the level of emotions roiling around in there, I'd say that he is farther from ROOT now than when he started. And since I have seen that is the case - I'll be taking back my shinobi now. We'll discuss the merits of your experiment later - or should I say, the lack of merits - after we've had a chance to do the evaluations and examine him. I assure you that it will be done professionally. I will do the physical examinations myself, and rely on Ibiki's unique talents to evaluate his mental state and suitability to return to regular service."

Danzou stared daggers. He had lost this, yes…but he suspected that she had not won, either. His eye was still a mystery, Jeninki was still written off for dead…the Uzingan eyes' final disposition a mystery she did not solve.

And he had a whole life to live over again. His firm young body hidden by jutsu, it seemed that he had managed to pull great victories from the jaws of this defeat.

"Then, by all means…if you think that you have the ability to finish healing him, be my guest," he said, voice cold and smooth with superiority. "I was merely attempting to restore him in order to return him to you anyway."

This would actually be Jeninki's victory after all, Danzou conceded, mollified somewhat by that thought. With Iruka immobilized in the infirmary, it would be a golden opportunity for the clever nin to slip in and induct him into that ethereal village. It was infinitely preferable to letting Tsunade prevail.

The last chance the Hokage had to pin something on him rested in the information still locked down by the remains of Even's loyal, steely will. Her reference to using the head of Intelligence to evaluate him was telling indeed. If they could snatch that opportunity away, Konoha's leader would be left with nothing, and have only her own foolishness to blame for it.

The strap swung loose and the buckle clattered against the table. The ANBU lifted the motionless, dark-haired shinobi from the table and the enclave swept down the hallway and out without further comment.

Danzou secured the door and dispelled the disguise of old age. Without looking back at the whisper of cloth stirring the air behind him, he sighed. "You know the way?"

"Someone time ago, I was given a diagram, and I have the layout of this village memorized. It's not something I'd ever forget."

Danzou turned at the odd tone in Jeninki's voice and puzzled at the melancholy look in the gold-flecked eyes.

_tbc_


End file.
